Be careful what you wish for
by Billybob - csagun36
Summary: JKR in February 2014 purposed a new ending for her seven book Potter series. where Hermione and Harry got together, I and many others including JKR (at one time) didn't think this pairing would work. herein is one reason why.
1. Chapter 1

Be careful what you wish for

By Billybob

Authors opening rant:

On the Eighth of February, 2014; an announcement was made by JK Rowling concerning the epilog pairing of Ron and Hermione, an announcement which has been for the most part universally ignored by the fan base. In published statements both JK and the actress Emma Watson, who played Hermione Granger, both believe that Ron would have been a poor fit for Hermione as a life mate. They both voiced their view that Harry (the Hero) should have rode off into the sunset with Hermione (the Heroine) utilizing an old and overused formula in story plotlines that dates back to ancient Greece.

Few can argue that JK Rowling has 'any skill' in writing a believable romance. After all; the primary target audience for her book series was twelve year old girls, a group not yet cursed with the twin horrors of boys or going through puberty. JKR was writing an adventure yarn about three 'friends' fighting evil and romance had nothing to do with it. In the first three books, sex was strictly limited to identifying gender, However all that changed in book four.

During that book the prospect of romantic crushes came into play as the teenagers turned fourteen. Under pressure from her publisher (I suppose) JKR started toying with the idea of a romantic connection between Hermione and one of the boys.

I need to point out that JK Rowling had three additional books to write a believable love story between Ron and Hermione and Harry and Ginny. However during her news conference of February 8th 2014, she announced her utter failure to create a binding romance between either couple.

A casual look at the publicity events from movie one through eight clearly shows Emma's all but total infatuation (school girl crush) with Dan… the star. So her support of the idea of Hermione and Harry ending up together is understandable. But as no post movie romance (dating) came about; as-happened following the _**twilight**_ movie series. Whatever romantic chemistry Emma imagined in the movies hasn't translated to real life. In fact Dan has had little to say about the alternate ending Rowling's proposed and has had almost zero contact with Emma or Rupert since the last movie came out.

This story gives Rowling's her alternate ending; but with a twist.

I am not even a remotely trained writer; I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself a unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here"

Roll film *****

Chapter One:

A scruffy looking twenty-four year old wizard walked purposely down the fourth level of the Ministry of Magic (London), humming a merry tune to him-self. He was dressed in the traditional manner of the second youngest member of the Weasley family; meaning he had-on 'hand me down' clothing which 'oddly enough' dated back to the previous decade. This choice of attire had been carefully chosen by the wearer, for this calculated appearance of shabbiness was intended to being about a particular result.

He wore an old maroon jumper with a faded 'R' embossed on the chest, and a-pair of worn thin and obviously patched blue-jeans that appeared to be a tad- too-tight even for his lean frame. This decade old clothing had been retrieved from a box in the attic of the Burrow that very morning and magically re-sized 'deliberately' to once again fit the now six-foot two-inch tall Weasley for a meeting that had ended only minutes before.

Ron entered Head of the 'Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects' (HBP5) with a huge smile on his face, feeling extra pleased with himself . This was an important part of the British Magical Government, which Ron's fifty-four year-old father, Arthur; now ran as 'department head'. There was a notable spring to his step as he walked by the ten clerks working in the outer-office and waved politely at the executive assistant who desk was just outside his father's private office.

"Is he busy?" Ron asked.

"No he isn't. In fact; you can go right in", the elderly witch replied with a smile.

"Thanks loads, Margaret" he replied as he walked by her and opened the door into his dad's office.

As always, Ron was slightly stunned at the sight of his hard working father. The Voldemort war had taken a heavy toll on the man, he has lost loads of weight in the seven years since Fred had died in battle and there was an aura of life-weariness surrounding both his parents that Ron still found disturbing.

"Wotcha Da!" Ron said in the easy-going cheerful tone that was a trademark of his normally outgoing personality.

"Oi Ronald, are you back already?"

"Yup, my forced interview with the first special undersecretary to the Minister went pretty-much the way I planned it."

"Please tell me that you didn't wear those rags to the interview?" Arthur asked in a worried tone.

"Of course I did," Ron replied with an amused chuckle. "Thankfully; the high and mighty undersecretary had already formed her preconceived impression on how I would look, dress and act. The lack of long hair on my part might have thrown her for a moment, but she recovered quickly enough. Truth-be-told, all I did, thanks in large part to that box of old clothing that I recovered from the Burrow's attic yesterday, was to appear to be precisely the person she expected me to be".

"I find it hard to believe that she could be so easily fooled," Arthur interjected.

"Perception is everything, Da. During my seven years abroad while working as a sales-clerk, I quickly learned the art of reading my customers. To know, almost instinctively the difference between a serious shopper and someone who was just browsing".

"How did that help you?" His father asked.

"Her disapproval was an easy thing to see, as plain as day even on her guarded bureaucratic face. Almost from the instant she entered the room, her rapidly 'lowering expectations' concerning the bloke who sat across the table from her, became more and more crystal clear. Getting her to act on preconceptions that she had formed so long-ago, spelled the difference between a frustrating twenty minute interview (for her) and several long days of painfully endless questioning for me".

"So she bought it – hook, line and sinker", Arthur said chucking a-bit while actually sounding a-little impressed at his sons cunning. "I did warn you more than once after your return to England, that both of your former 'school-chums' had acquired well-earned reputations for being very sanctimonious about everything they do. Years of being National celebrities' can do that to the best of people…I suppose. Both of them have egos that are now way beyond gigantic. Can I also take it for granted, that the outfit you're wearing was just another small- embellishment of your plot to make her instantly underestimate you?"

"And it worked like a charm; Da," Ron replied with a smug smile. "I guess having grown up with the twins resulted in a few unexpected benefits in the being deceitful department. When I was first informed that I had been chosen for this interview, some two days ago, I asked you to find out who would be conducting it. And then yesterday, you were kind-enough to confirm my worse suspicions…that the person put in-charge of this 'international crisis' would be none-other than Minister Kingsley's ever so special assistant."

"My former employer had been unfairly pressured to provide someone for Magical Britain to question about the Western Elves…and as a father of seven you well know, that the use of any kind of force; is not exactly the best incentive for anyone to provide an overabundance of useful information. My handler must have known about how Kingsley had tricked both Neville and I, about the empty promise he made concerning two long-term jobs then available over in Canada and felt that; in the face of this blatant act of deception, that I would be the most likely of all the British refugees; to go to this morning's interview and tell them next to nothing. Finding out it would be Granger doing the interview just made my task all that much easier".

"Odd thing was …in her just concluded assessment of my prospects…past, present and future; she proved spot-on in describing mine. I wasn't all that mature back then and I didn't really apply myself hard-enough at my magical studies to become an Auror. Also; to add insult to injury…were all those years she thinks that I have 'wasted' in Canada as a mere sales clerk. Squandered years indeed…for I end-up back-home with tail between legs nearly penniless and unemployed. She considers me to be an overall failure, lacking in any ambition and totally obliviousness to any number of personal items that are literally 'going-on' right in under of my ruddy nose. She called me the most gullible dullard she had ever encountered".

"And I suppose from her point of view I am. However; she did have a few minor things wrong Thank-Merlin. My eyes are fully open concerning my surroundings now and I've learned a thing or two trade-wise since the three of us abruptly parted company".

"Do you think she was referring to the Potter-Granger love affair?" Arthur asked softly

"Yeah Da, everyone saw it but me. To this day; I just don't understand why the two of them kept it from me or why they kept me around after sixth year", Ron continued. "Potter had already cut all ties to Ginny at Dumbledore's funeral so why didn't they just confront me with the truth 'then and there' and be done with it.

"Why drag things out by letting me carry-on with false hope, why bother attending Bill's Wedding before dragging my useless arse on their famous 'seventh year' camping trip? Had she told me the **truth** at the funeral, had she cried on Potter's shoulder instead of mine, I wouldn't have been underfoot as the literal third wheel in that ruddy tent, where all I accomplished was to delay the start of everyone now calls their 'destined' romance. Lord-knows; it quickly became apparent that they didn't need me around anymore. I added nothing to their adventure, beyond taking up space".

"Perhaps she was uncertain of her feelings for Potter, before the camping trip began and kept you around as a 'second best' backup plan in case her plans for Potter fell through." Arthur suggested softly. "Yes-yes…that makes sense; your workaholic Hogwarts-friend suffered from a deeply seated Cinderella complex…with Harry in the role of her prince Charming and you; my son, as someone she could force herself to settle for…if her plans didn't work out".

"By being the wife of his best mate, she would still be close to her real romantic target 'if and when' Harry woke up to the fact that Granger was the one true love of his life. Once she thought that Harry was attainable she dumped you cold and hard. Come to think on it…consider yourself lucky; Ronald, if you had gotten her to marry you, she would have most-likely abused you verbally non-stop for years and treated you worse than dirty, for no other reason than the fact that you **weren't **the National Hero…Prince Charming that she had dreamed of".

"But I was never anyone's prince … I'm just a working stiff like you Da", Ron replied. "Granger should have properly dumped me at the end of sixth-year, I could have attended my seventh year at Hogwarts on my own and perhaps found a proper girlfriend and still have been 'in place' to be a-part of Potter's infamous cannon-fodder during the final Battle. What real good did I do during the raid on the Ministry? Clumsy fool that I was, all I got was splinched, which greatly slowed down the hunt."

"The way I see it now, they would have been better-off without me in that tent. It was Hermione that saved Harry at Godric's Hallow and it was Neville that saved her from Voldemort's snake, not me".

"I was a drag on the two of them, eating food they couldn't spare; forcing them to sleep in separate beds, taking a blanket they could have shared. Today; I reminded her of all that, and combined with the way I dressed and talked, made it extra-easy for her to recall why she use to dismiss me 'out of hand' as utterly worthless, almost every time I opened my mouth".

"Like I said over dinner at the Burrow just last night", Arthur interjected. "Over the last seven years, Harry Potter was considered too much of a national treasure to be risked out in the field. Any criminal cases credited to him had other Aurors doing the actual foot work. He has been promoted due to his fame against Voldemort and nothing else".

"Your Ms. Granger on the other hand…has earned a notorious reputation at the Ministry as a brilliant bureaucratic workaholic and micromanaging 'control freak' within any department she was assigned to, including her current post as…Head of Law Enforcement. I am reliably told that Kingsley made Granger his special assistant; not only for her genius, but also because of her extra close relationship with Potter. Her near total control of our National Hero has kept Kingsley extra-close to Harry for all those photo-ops…political capital opportunities that our Minister would need around election time".

"I'm also told that most of her coworkers universally despise her", Arthur continued to his son. "She only promotes women and is particularly hard on the men in the departments she directed…to the point where the transfer request rate for men in those departments is the highest at the Ministry. Molly and I were not at all surprised at the way she turned out; by the way. As we beheld; first-hand, the little tyrant she would become when we saw her order you about like a 'fetch and tote' servant at the Burrow as teenagers".

"Even Minerva pointed out over tea several times when we gathered to discuss the possibility of you two becoming a couple; that Granger consistently tried to dominate both you and Potter. Minerva told us during third year, that with Harry she was for the most part succeeding, but you…my son," Arthur said proudly, "were resisting Hermione attempts to dominate you through countless arguments. You have turned out to be the rare exception when it comes to a Weasley interaction with a strong willed woman. William, George and I have women in our lives that dominate almost everything we do at home. I freely admit to being hen-pecked but that particular bullet missed you by a hair when it came to Granger".

"Don't forget; Da, the decision of who became her henpecked husband …was Granger's, not mine", Ron softly pointed out.

"Point taken Ronald," Arthur said after a moment's reflection. "Minerva also saw all the signs of Hermione becoming the radical feminist she is today. That you were not the only male classmate she verbally mistreated and spoke down too; while totally focusing all her time and effort on Potter's tiniest whim," Arthur continued. "Minerva always thought that Granger disliked men in general and the fact that during seven years at Hogwarts she only had two dates with two different boys bears-out that theory. Minerva also saw how she worshiped Harry and predicted that she would end-up with Potter…if only to advance her career ambitions and in the end; both Minerva and Rita Skeeter proved correct about that point; of course".

"It's almost painful to watch the way Hermione dominates Harry in…everything", Arthur said sadly. "Whatever she says is taken as gospel by Potter. He is just a figure-head at the Auror department with his fiancé actually in charge. Even the Daily Prophet has commented that perhaps the main reason that the Heroic duo hasn't married already; is that once in a great while Harry has shown a little backbone and stood-up for himself? It's a pity really, Harry was a good lad once, but now that he is totally under her thumb he seems spineless. He acts like the worse sort of hen-pecked spouse imaginable and they aren't even married yet".

"But forget about the golden duo; let's get back to talking about your meeting with **her** today. You're saying it was your goal to deliberately make her underestimate you".

"Yeah; Da, the Americans are really mad at Magical England's withdraw from world affairs and were even less happy about being politically pressured to provide information that England hadn't really earned. Making Granger 'dismiss my offered help out of hand' with extreme prejudice was just what the Yanks wanted," Ron replied happily. "They will be pleased that England has so forcedly rejected the very help they had previous demanded so strongly".

"Won't they just insist on some else … someone more cooperative". Arthur inquired.

"No Da, the Ministry had only this one-shot, because that's all the Americans agreed to. I can't begin to describe how truly miffed the Wizarding World is at Kingsley's Magical government and their non-cooperation on several international incidents concerning extradition of criminals of all sorts. That they had to go through the Muggle Prime Minster of the UK to make this demand is an indication of how bad the situation is. I'm sure the PM will not be happy with Kingsley about this".

"I imagine our darling Miss Granger somehow convinced Kingsley that she still had you under her thumb." Arthur interjected.

"I can do anything Granger, yeah; I guess that's how it went", Ron replied.

"It was like going back to that ruddy tent all over again", Ron continued. "They must have been a couple in secret for three or four months by then. But instead of telling me the truth; and letting the chips fall where they may; they decided to continue to play me for a fool until the final battle. They kept the details of their little 'didn't mean anything'…innocent 'tent dance' and all the loads of non-stop sex' that followed…from me, for nearly four months. Today's interview was on her part; a masterpiece of ignoring the 'betrayal issue' in the room, left-over from seven years ago".

"She tried to act aloof and control me like she use to and I would have none of it. Going back to that tent, was 'baring none' the biggest mistake I have ever made and her thinking she could still make me jump through hoops like a pathetic lovesick puppy that I was once…was her biggest mistake."

"I still think of myself as a-bit of a dullard; for the crime of loving someone who so clearly was; madly in love with my best mate", Ron said bitterly.

"You couldn't have known, Ronald," Arthur interjected softly.

"No Da; I should have known, I was ruddy stupid back then. The truth was there, right in front of me; but I refused to see the 'romantic reality' until she sat me down and spelled it out for me right-after Nagini was killed by Neville. Even given the warning that fate provided me with the 'Locket prophecy', I remained clueless to the very end".

"You always been too trusting for your own good" Arthur observed.

"You can say that again. Too trusting Ronnie; that's me. I was too ruddy eager to believe the lie Harry told me about being just a brother-figure to his sister Hermione".

"Yes-yes, looking back at our time together, I realize now, that as in any really good- _**storybook fairytale**_ \- the hero requires a disposable sidekick and fate apparently, chose me to play that role for Harry". Ron said in a resigned tone laced with a-touch of regret. His father regarded him with a frown but said nothing, for Arthur and his wife had come to a similar conclusion within months of the final battle.

"Your sister still hates them both, you know." Arthur finally said, breaking the silence that followed.

"You're spot-on about that; Da." Ron replied with an amused chuckle. "All of her letters to me over the years have all but 'dripped with hate' over how they used both me and her and to cover-up their secret love-affair at Hogwarts. I use to think that Mum was the family champion of the all-time grudge holder's, but on the Potter issue, Gin-gin has Mum beat, without question. 'Hell hath no fury like a women scorned' takes on a whole new meaning when it comes to Ginny's ongoing 'blood-feud' level of hate - for our two National Heroes".

"Ginerva's never-lessening hatred for Granger in particular; at first came as a huge surprise to me, especially when she got arrested twice for aggregated assault when she ran into them while shopping and at a restaurant", Arthur said thoughtfully. "Although I suspect Molly always saw the potential for violence in her little girl. And perhaps that's why she's turned out to be one of the roughest players the _**Harpies**_ have on their squad".

"Come to think on it," Arthur continued. "It would be best if you don't mention your interview today to Ginerva. She's coming to dinner tonight and you know that anything said about the _**Golden Duo**_ just sets her off. But enough said about your sister. Please give me more details on your first meeting with 'Her' after seven years of separation, was it your outfit and childish behaviors enough to get Granger to explode as she did? Was Potter there also? Did you manage to keep your emotions in check?"

"No, Da; Harry wasn't around, but then again; there was no need for the chief Auror to be there, with his boss in the room already. Besides; I had been 'ordered' by the Americans to cooperate. Actually I never intended to keep my resentment in check," Ron replied with an evil grin. "Earlier, this mourning; hours before my meeting with Granger, I used a pensive to revisit my memories of Hermione's rather blunt rejection of me on the Grand stairway of Hogwarts during the cease fire pause of the battle for Hogwarts. That was when she first declared the truth of her multi-year undying love for Potter. So while Harry was in the forest with Voldemort; my beloved Granger was telling me that I was emotionally nothing to her and that she had been head over heels in love with Harry since almost first-sight".

"Seven years after the war; I had put all those negative feelings of rejection behind me, after all I can't force anyone to love me", Ron said shaking his head sadly. "I had moved on, dated other birds and almost got engaged…once. But to get the reaction from Hermione that I wanted; I needed more than just appearance. I needed emotional immaturity in my voice as well. To be the dullard she expected all it took was one brief - 'pensive visit'- into my past memories and all those suppressed resentments came rushing back to the forefront".

"I walked into that meeting still feeling a reawakened sense of betrayal from when she had 'put me down', and as I hoped; my barely contained bitterness was dripping from my every pore of skin. Although I was careful to never raised my voice and spoke in a clam conversational tone, my apparent inability to get-over a teenage break-up of almost a decade ago; pushed all the right buttons, causing her to lose her self-control completely. My throwback outfit was just icing on the cake, for it piled-on to her already preconceived notions on my general worthlessness".

"My negative body language and aggrieved tone gave lie to the cooperative words I was actually using, and it is the words I used; that would appear in any transcript of our encounter sent to the Americans. My attitude and tone was all the proof our dear Miss Granger required to dismiss my forced offered 'help' out of hand. She even loudly commented on my immature behavior during our meeting, and how it helped 'her' come to the very conclusion that I wanted her to make. By the end of the interview; she was shouting…at the top of her lungs SHOUTING, verbally abusing me; by saying that I hadn't grown-up at all and was still the same juvenile clownish fool, which she remembered 'all so well' from our Hogwarts days".

"She actually shouted at you?" Arthur inquired politely.

"Yes sir, she was loud enough in her demand that I leave her department, to the point where a pair of Aurors came in and escorted me out".

"But-but…what about the… threat of invasion? That's been page one on the _**Daily Prophet**_ for weeks now" Arthur asked sounding worried.

"But there is zero threat: Da. The Wood-elves of Canada have been in direct contact with mankind since 1805 and they have not attacked us humans even once in all that time. I'm certain that had the entrance to Woodland Ream stayed in western Canada; thousands of miles away from Magical England, our beloved Minister wouldn't be doing anything now. The truth is, our xenophobe Ministry; with its head buried firmly in the sand, doesn't want to spend even a single brass Knut on the Elves that suddenly appeared in Ireland and that's why I'm guessing, that Kingsley assigned 'Granger' to head-up the interview and end it…just as quickly. Didn't you tell me; just last night at dinner, that Kingsley told you privately, that he feels the Elves are exclusively an Irish **problem**?"

"Yes he's quite firm about keeping us out of it", Arthur softly interjected.

"Da, you know as well as I do that our Ministry current interest in the wood-elves only began after they shut down their entrance-gate near Vancouver, only to reopen another gate a fortnight ago in northern Ireland a mere twenty kilometers west of British controlled Northern Ireland".

"Didn't you tell me that the Ministry of Magic has been under intense pressure from Magical Ireland for any information the UK had on the Woodland elves and had been getting nothing useful out-of our isolationist Ministry for the last fortnight? It was out of frustration that Magical Ireland turned to their Muggle Government who then in turn, put pressure on the Muggle Prime Minister of England, who naturally had his own concerns about the area; to provide answers which Shacklebolt's Ministry; up to that point, has been stonewalling".

"Ireland and England had tried to question any of the native-born refuges fresh from the recently shut Canadian gate and ran into the same roadblock, the confidentiality unbreakable agreement we refugees have with Magical Canada and America. Without magical permission from them no refugee can speak of what we saw or did in the elfish trade settlement under pain of losing all their magic".

"Under great political pressure the joint Canadian-Americans operation was forced to offer-up a single person that the Irish and British could talk too and that's where I came in".

"As the official sacrificial lamb; I became the one and only refugee from the Woodland Realm trade settlement to have his confidentially agreement unbreakable vow…lawfully broken by the North Americans, just so that I could speak about the Wood Elves without horrible consequences".

"Tell me again why did they pick you?" Arthur asked.

"Well according to Granger's theory, just spouted today, The North Americans (Canada and the US) have never been happy with the UK withdrawal from world affairs and therefore offered-up someone whom they felt could provide the least usable information."

"Do you think she is right?"

"It doesn't matter what I think", Ron replied. "The important thing is; she considers herself to be infallible and secondly; her brilliant theory gets me out of working with her in any capacity".

"So you're done?" Arthur said.

"I'm going over to _**Dublin**_ in the next day or two and offer my help to the Irish, which I'm more than happy to do for as long as it takes;" Ron said in a more cheerful tone, "For one thing; they haven't turned their back on the rest of the magical world. Whereas Granger; just wanted enough information to satisfy the Muggle PM, because her boss: Kingsley has no intention of abandoning his isolationist policy".

"So getting the Ministry chosen representative to loudly dismiss me 'out-of-hand' as worthless; leaves me officially blameless for my lack of cooperation. It can be honestly said that I came forward as requested in good faith and was insulted for my trouble. Ms. Granger; I think, always thought of me as being more of a hindrance than of any real assistance; especially concerning Potter's Prophecy problem. With that same belief firmly seated in her head concerning the Elves and her mind made up, I had one foot already out the door".

"And you did all this…just to get-out of being sucked into working for the Ministry under Granger," Arthur said smiling at his son's cleverness.

"She really didn't want my cooperation; Da, She wanted the interview to fail same as I did. I just beat her to the punch on the _**blame game**_". Ron replied.

"But you could have worked for her if you wanted too?" Arthur asked

"I'd be more than just a tad reluctant; especially if it meant long-term, but 'push come-to shove' I'm pretty sure I could. To me; Potter and Granger are just old school mates just like Dean and Seamus are. They aren't really a-big part of my life anymore; Da and I doubt they have given me any more thought than I given them. Childhood friends drift apart, the memories of being a teenager fades. I'm not the same trusting fool I was back then…at least I hope I'm not." Ron said with a uncertain smile.

"True enough, you clearly not the same person you were at seventeen, my son", Arthur countered proudly. "Your mother and I fully concede that you have matured in many ways far more than have George, Bill and Charlie combined and Bill has nippers of his own, now. The war end-up changing us all and more than a little-bit too;" Arthur interjected softly with regret. "But I can still see a touch here and there, of the fun-loving little boy I once knew, before Granger and Potter got their hooks in you and nearly destroyed my youngest son."

"Preconception always trumps facts, Da. Magical England put the _**golden duo**_ on pedestals seven years ago and they still worship them. We Weasley's all know that Granger isn't a Goddess and that Potter is actually a hen-pecked clod. I sincerely hope they enjoy what being a celebrity has made them. We don't run in the same circles anymore nor do I want to. My Apprenticeship is over and I'm happily self-employed, with a decent enough yearly income so that I only have find part-time work out side of my home to make ends meet".

"The more I think about it the more I'm convinced, that I'll be settling down back in Canada. I have made enough friends over there that I have their promise to find me a place to live in the Magical parts of Vancouver, Canada. The last thing I want is a non-paying government job under a man-hating feminist like Granger", Ron said in a serious tone as he retrieved the suit bag, which he had left earlier in his dad's office, before his meeting with the high and exalted special undersecretary.

"Granger as head of Law Enforcement has made clear her plans on recruiting more women into the Aurors corps; while all but forcing the men in that department to leave or retire" Arthur pointed out unhappily. "It was the same way with her last two departments she ran. I'm in favor of gender equality myself; but I don't approve of trying to correct past inequality by overcompensating in favor of women exclusively. People should be promoted by merit and not simply by gender. She was even quoted as saying that she is more than willing to accept the label _**man-hater**_ if it means equality sooner rather than later".

"Da; it's S.P.E.W. all over again. Once she takes up a good cause, whether it is house-elf welfare or job equality, nothing gets in her way. It's not the ends that she favors that I disagree with…it's the means", Ron said. "She never believed in long-term solutions, as I do. When she thinks she is right about something…like gender equality in pay or promotion …she demands radical change right now, or better still… yesterday".

"Change never happens fast enough for her and that makes enemies. I tried for years to explain to her how some things take time to work-out, how slow to change magical people are generally, how long it took to get women in the U.K. the right to vote… but she wouldn't listen. She had to right so I naturally was wrong. From my personal point of view; with all things considered; I believe that the Goddess of destiny has been far kinder to me in the long run than she has been to the two great heroes of the Voldemort War".

"How so?" his father asked in a curious tone as his son went into his private bathroom to change clothing.

"Well it's more than just the difference between Grangers; 'I want what I want and I demand to get it now' attitude and my more easygoing…long term view on gradual change. I'm sure she has been deeply frustrated by Potter romantically and the negative effect their lack of being married has had on her ambitions. I'm equally sure that Harry is the problem and not her. He is the hero, she is the heroin and traditionally, according to the '_Happy-ever-after_' rules as written in most storybook fairytales they should already be married".

"And these rules declare that hero's should only marry other hero's", Arthur interjected.

Well; yeah. These rules apply to sidekick too… meaning me, as I normally would have been 'foully' killed somewhere during the third act of the Potter story. According to storybook rules, I should have kicked-it (died) the same night Dumbledore did. Thus saving Granger and Potter all kinds of bother on their camping holiday. Without me underfoot, they would have enjoyed a year-long pre-honeymoon in that tent and then gotten married right after the war. At the same time being properly inspired (by my death) to take on the stories main villain and thus rightfully enraged, defeat him in single combat".

"So you think we are all living a fairytale?"

"Of course not; Da, for if that was true; I'd be dead now, wouldn't I?" Ron snorted in reply. "Although even you must admit that Potter's life as a whole is the stuff that would easily fill seven fairytale books".

"That's true enough" Arthur conceded sounding thoughtful, "Alright then, and just for sake of a chuckle, lets follow your 'theory' of all-this being just a popular children's story to its logical end. Are you implying that Potter and Granger have already ridden off into the sunset together and are now living their _happily ever after_? Because from what I have seen first-hand or read in the - _**Daily Prophet**_ \- I can acknowledge that their careers are going well-enough. However; they didn't get married right after the war and their personal lives are according to the tabloids…royally mucked-up."

"You got that in one go, Da", Ron said thinking hard. "Something went wrong, or rather several something's …and like I said earlier…I'll wager _ten Galleons_ the main problem is Potter. Hermione has the loads more to gain career-wise by being Mrs. P than Harry does by being Granger's hen-pecked husband, although it must annoy her; 'to no end' as a devoted feminist…to need a bloke for anything".

"As to the question of why is Harry is avoiding marriage…that is anyone's guess? After-all, according to what I have read in old issues of the- _**Daily Prophet**_ -that Mum, ever so kindly sent me…in Canada…via owl post. Potter and Granger have 'dated' semi-exclusively since the war. They've gone out with other people from time to time, even dated others openly for weeks, but always drifted back together. They have been engaged and then un-engaged twice during the past seven years, so romantically speaking, I'd say that the smartest witch of our age for reasons unknown…has not yet managed to land the fish for which she been casting, for some twelve years."

"That doesn't sound all that '_Happily ever After_' to me, son!" Arthur said deadpan.

"I agree with you, Da; but living with a deeply committed feminist in a paparazzi sponsored fishbowl, wouldn't help things along, I'm sure".

"Do you still envy their fame?" his dad asked softly.

"That's an odd thing to ask, Da;" Ron replied while starring off at nothing. "Because Granger just asked me the same question during the interview and the answer oddly-enough was; **oh-hell NO**".

"And why is that?" Arthur asked.

"I've read everything about them that Mum sent me in the post, and it soon dawned on me that the life of a celebrity means zero privacy. I often wondered how Dumbledore dealt with it all. Even Minister Kingsley has more of private life than our much-beloved National heroes. So no; Da, I have found that being overlooked by history has actually been a kindness for me. At odd moments I still feel slightly envious of all those blokes, who are more famous than me, but then I see a ten page '_**photo-spread**_' in the Daily-Prophet on Potter going to a public loo and my desire for fame quickly fades away".

"You have indeed grown-up a-bit, my son" Arthur said sounding impressed.

"I'm twenty-four, Da; don't you think it's time?" Ron asked drolly.

"So your saying there won't be any '_happily ever after'_ for Potter and Granger.

"I'm sure they will marry, someday. Granger has had her sights on Harry since first-year and I can't see her giving-up on something that important to her career. I'm not as sure that Harry will end-up happy". Ron replied.

"Why not?"

"Well I guess it depends on whether or not Harry will want Hermione telling him what to do for the rest of his life", Ron replied.

"Like she does now?" Arthur said.

"Like she does now", Ron retorted.

"Poor sod"

"It's a Self-inflicted wound, so he has no-one but himself to blame" Ron said with a sad chuckle. "Besides; I doubt his life would have been any easier under my strong-willed sister. Harry seems to like dominating women".

"God gave women red hair as a warning to all men…Lord knows I have lived it firsthand I suppose. Luckily your mother has reassured me that The Great Potter's rare ability to stand-up to his fiancée dominance and our government's cowardice concerning world affairs, never directly affected your job in Canada." Arthur continued after pausing to reflect.

"Well that's not exactly true, Da." Ron replied embarrassed enough for his ears to turn red. "The jobs that Kingsley arranged for Neville and me after the war; sort-of involved working for the magical equivalent of the Muggle MI-6 (Secret Intelligence Service 'SIS'). Neville and I worked for them for about a year on loan from the Ministry until Kingsley cut all funding to the UK magical _**Foreign Office**_. After that; all magical U.K. diplomatic and espionage operations were terminated worldwide. I then was cut lose in Canada, along with every-one else born in the UK, when our MI-6 pay-bucket was abruptly cut off by Kingsley. Some came back home, but a few of us were picked-up as agents by a combination of magical Intelligence organizations; Canadian, NSA and CIA".

"Oh my God, son. Did you actually work for the famous CIA, as a spy?" Arthur asked utterly gob-smacked

"Da, everyone in the Elf settlement was trained as a spy, myself included", Ron said. "Long before I was allowed to enter the Elf created 'trade settlement' for those few humans 'permitted' to live within their dimension; I underwent training in spy-craft. Do you even remember why I left England in the first-place?"

"As I recall it", Arthur said thinking back. "George sold the joke-shop out from under you, after you got it back into the profit column financially, claiming that he had too many bad memories of the place, working so closely with Fred and all to ever try to run the shop on his own ever again. Kingsley was laying-off Ministry employees at the time and he was cutting back at new enrollees into the Auror Academy so as to shift resources to helping people rebuild after the war.

"As he couldn't keep his promise to you to make you an Auror and feeling extra bad about disappointing you and Longbottom in that regard. Kingsley then arranged an overseas apprenticeship to get you both away from our 'then staggering' thirty seven percent unemployment rate"

"That's partially true; Da. There were no jobs to be had in England after the war", Ron said in reluctant agreement, "Loads of businesses were owned either directly by Death-eaters or indirectly by members of their immediate families. After the war those not immediately arrested fled the country and took all their wealth with them. The UK magical economy was instantly ruined by tax revenues cut in half. Neville and I were bloody-lucky to get any position, anywhere".

"But how does that translate unto you become a spy?" Arthur asked, excited by the mere idea of it.

"I'm not a **real** spy, Da". Ron replied. "I was trained along with loads of other people for less than four months total and taught 'just enough' spy-craft to act as cover for the real spies they were sending in alongside us decoys".

"Decoys?" Arthur asked surprised.

"Yeah Da, the Woodland Realm is composed of elves that are all born Natural Mind-Readers. Think on-it, an entire race which are one thousand times better that the best human 'legilimens' England ever trained. They can easily probe far deeper and get more detailed information out of us humans, precisely because there is no known defense against their kind of mind-probe".

"I was paid a stipend for a year by MI-6 and then the CIA for the rest of my time in Canada to have enough spy-stuff in my head so that whenever an Elf would casually probed my mind (or anyone else living in their trade settlement) they would perceive that I was a poorly trained spy, thus helping to conceal from the Elf mind readers, the identities of the real spies that the human magical community had sent in."

"So MI-6 paid you to act as a decoy for the real spies?"

"The CIA paid most of it, but otherwise; yeah. However, all that ended two months ago when the Elves in a mere twenty-four hours, shut down the settlement forcing all us humans out; before they burned everything to the ground", Ron said trying to explain.

"Why did the elves do that?" Arthur asked

"The Americans honestly don't known, nor do the Canadians. I learned that much while spending three weeks being debriefed in Langley Virginia."

"Why Langley" his dad asked

"CIA headquarters", Ron replied

"Hold-on, you don't mind being grilled by the CIA, You are more than willing to help the Irish, but you take pains to avoid talking to our magical government?"

"I enjoyed working in Canada; I liked the people in the settlement too. Because I never was treated like a dimwitted sidekick by anyone and not once did the master I was apprenticed to; ever hold-back an important truth from me. For nearly six years until his death last year, I trusted my master with my back. My last year in the UK before I left was filled with nothing but betrayals and death. After the war I tried to make a go of it but then George sold the Joke shop; I had no job, no girl and therefore no reason to stay. I say the same thing for anyone now working at the corrupt Ministry of Magic now…except for you, Da. To me; isolationist Kingsley and his special undersecretary Granger are no different in their running of the British Ministry of today, than under Cornelius Fudge or Pius Thicknesse".

"Kingsley isn't that bad", Arthur protested mildly thus avoiding making any comment on Granger.

"I respectfully disagree, Da" Ron replied. "You've said it yourself, turning your back from rest of the world for seven plus years is bad policy. Personally, I deeply resent Kingsley's 'lack' of concern over the 'Elf problem' until it shows-up literally on his doorstep".

"I wonder how Granger's explosion this morning will undercut Kingsley plan to blame me for the interview's failure. My bet is on the bad-blood theory, because it gets Kingsley off the hook with his Muggle PM. By-the-way; doesn't Granger agree with Shacklebolt on the necessity of withdrawing from the world until England has fully recovered from the Voldemort war?" Ron asked.

"She is vocally his strongest supporter", Arthur said. "So I'd say yes, she supports Kingsley Isolationist policy one hundred percent. Bugger; she's used you again, hasn't she?"

"No; Da, not really, I'm sure that a professional politician like Kingsley will find a way to spin todays fit of temper on Grangers part; as being my fault. I expected to be blamed…to tell the truth, for after all…every-one in England knows that Hermione could never do anything wrong. It's the best perk of being a living _**Goddess**_", Ron replied.

end transmission

to be continuted


	2. Chapter 2

Time: Some Thirty-six hours later. Eight in the evening

Location: Reception hall entrance; Magical Government of the Irish Republic, Dublin.

The occasion: State dinner hosted by the Irish to welcome the first diplomatic contact by the elf delegation.

88888

Ron was having another really bad day; he was also running very-very late. During the last couple of days his meetings with the Magical Irish government concerning the Woodland Elves; had become increasingly frustrating. First off was the traditional distrust the Irish have with anything English and that alone provided more than just a few roadblocks. Add into this mix the loads of red-tape associated with any type of government bureaucracy, which naturally led to the 'official' position; that a former shop-clerk couldn't possibly have the kind of in-depth information that could be of any use to the Irish government.

Ron went away from these meetings with a new understanding of the unending idiocy to be found in all forms of governmental bureaucracy. Just because a bloke works for a magical Government doesn't automatically make them any 'wiser' than the average working stiff, Granger included. It was mildly surprising for Ron however, to hear Hermione's attitude echoed back at him; so perfectly by her Irish counterparts, in spite of Ron being a thousand times more friendly and cooperative than during his interview at the British Ministry.

But; Oh No; both countries bureaucrats only wanted the practical knowledge of a 'real spy' either military or industrial. They wanted information on the composition and deployment of Woodland Elf Army, detailed Knowledge which of course Ron couldn't provide. All the red head had at his disposal as a mere decoy was the face to face observations of a person who had interacted everyday on a personal level with the Wood Elves for seven long years. Such cultural information was deemed useless by the Irish Magical Government. They demanded Military intelligence _**right-now**_ to counter the potential threat of an invasion from an allegedly unbeatable Army. The Irish also were curious of the Elves as a business rival's that might have some 'unfair' advantages that could undercut or outright ruin their homegrown magical market share. But Ron had not been trained to be an industrial spy either.

Ron shook his head sadly while acknowledging an **age old truth**; 'fear of the unknown makes people react defensively' and after two days of fruitless talks, he had come to the inescapable conclusion; that the magical Irish were at the moment of two very different minds. They were all but literally salivating at the idea of being the clearing house for all European trade with these strange-looking Elves, while at the same time fearful that they would end up on the losing side of any such deal.

Later that same evening, Ron handed his embossed invitation to one of the Irish Aurors standing guard at the entrance to what appeared to be (to any Muggles passing by) a deserted warehouse in a mostly uninhabited region of the Muggle City of Dublin. Ron and Neville, who counted as Ron's - 'with guest' -on the invitation, were both 'dressed to the nines 'in the height of male fashion for 1905.

With starched upright collars around their necks, at the top of formal frocks of jet black, they both bore zero resemblance to the manner of casual dress of the average young wizard of Modern Ireland. The other arriving human guests wore the customary black tuxedos and evening gowns of high-brow political events. Their upper crust attire normally would have meant that Ron and Neville were shamefully underdressed for such a serious occasion, however one look at the fourteen Elves in attendance and it became obvious that the two former residents of the 'trade settlement' were in prefect 'fashion lockstep' with the Elf representatives of the Woodland realm. Dressed from head to toe in sober black in the classic style of late Victorian England, the elves were in stark contrast to their human hosts. There stiff posture and aloof mannerisms without a word being said, had unintentionally created a clearly divided room with the elves gathered in the far corner of the reception hall in a semi-defensive stance with the humans gathered near the door.

Ron with a nervous appearing Neville close at his side gently pushed through the throng to the forefront and thereby gained the instant attention of one of the two English VIP's standing in the back against the wall trying to remain unnoticed. Harry's full attention was fixated on the Six Elf warriors wearing ceremonial polished Armor and their draped purple cloaks that dated back to the Elvish **first age** a group of soldiers that formed a - 'line of separation' - between the Elvish civilian delegation behind them and the humans in front. Hermione on the other hand, was fixated on the newest arrivals, her suddenly pale face a mixture of shock and surprise upon seeing the way Ron was dressed.

"It can't be", she meant to say to herself; but instead spoke aloud, for this handsome looking young man dressed as he was; as a proper gentleman of taste and breeding, couldn't possibly be the same … person, who had sat in her interview room looking all scruffy.

Suddenly she felt a hand gently touch her elbow, which startled her out of her state of semi-shock and more surprising … unusually strong sense of confusion towards this 'new' Ron, like a moth toward a flame. "You owe me a gold galleon" Harry whispered in her ear, "I told you, didn't I? Not two minutes after seeing your pensive concerning your ever so brief meeting with Ron. I told you. He's putting you on – I said - it was all an act, designed to deceive you".

"I wasn't deceived"; Hermione replied with whisper, barely controlled anger.

"Yeah-right!" Harry snorted with a half chuckle. "You kept you distance during the meeting, spoke in a monotone at first to keep your emotions in check, acting like your usual petty tyrant self; because you were afraid that you'd somehow let-show how much you have missed him".

"I haven't given him a thought in years, I certainly haven't missed him at all, I mean honestly". Hermione said in an angry huff, - "Don't you remember how big a dullard he was, always quick with a joke, always ready to avoid work to run off and play stupid _**wizard chess**_ or that dangerous game _**Quidditch**_".

"Oh yeah, I do remember that Ron was the only easygoing bloke at Hogwarts who could get your nose out of a book long-enough to have a-bit of fun", Harry countered. "I also remember how you have worked almost non-stop since he left us. When was the last time you took a real vacation, or even a long weekend? If we took a moment to tell ourselves the raw truth; we would admit that we never really knew how to have fun when he wasn't around. I'm still subject to frequent mood swings and bouts of depression, and it was Ron 'jokes' and sense of fun, that kept me from going over the edge mentally. Now a-days I turn to Firewhisky to solve depression and my search for diversion has taken me to some very strange places. As for you; my dearest friend; you have always been too damn serious for your own good".

"Are you calling me a prudish workaholic…again?" Hermione asked mortified.

"Yeah, I am…and even you must acknowledge the truth of it…on some level. I thought you'd end the charade after you finally came out of the closet and admitted publicly to being the Wizarding worlds first ever _**zealous feminist**_, with your never ending crusade for house-elf rights and pay equality as the only remaining way for you to get any meaning out of life. As a in the closet, card caring 'man-hater' your attitude at Hogwarts concerning make-up, fashion and dating makes a lot more sense now. Why put-out any effort to be attractive for a gender you despise. You used Ron and me to maintain the illusion of heterosexuality and conceal your disgust with men in general. Poor Ron; he worshiped you and you used that fact to all but totally avoid dating at school. Even Viktor Krum's narcissism ended up nauseating you; but you kept him around just to keep Ron enslaved by jealousy. You never really needed any man in your life and you've proved that time and again…since the war.

"That's diatribe is not exactly true, Harry" She retorted.

"Me you dominated, Ron was your lovesick plaything, which you maliciously treated no better than a mongrel dog just to keep all other boys at Hogwarts at arm's length. Yes-yes…when it comes to the term Man-hating Feminist, that description really fits you right down to the ground," Harry replied; his tone filled with mild-loathing. "I should have told him the truth about us; after he saved me from drowning, why did I let you talk me into letting _**you**_ tell him?"

"We needed him; Harry, you had given up on the hunt at the very time he returned and once he came back; you found new reasons to carry on", she said in a tone devoid of emotion.

"Ends justify the means…eh Hermione. You're a piece of work and I'm no better: _**Cardboard Chief**_ \- they call me - the only Auror promoted to Chief who had never solved a case or made an arrest on my own. But I'm not the only Hero with a 'work nickname' and don't you act as if I'm the first one to point this out; for you have to know by now, with what the Ministry workers call you behind your back".

"Asexual Ice", Hermione replied sadly.

"How many times have you told me? 'Emotional detachment is the key to efficiency in government' and Merlin-knows, you are that in spades. You're effectiveness as an undersecretary is unparalleled, I happily concede that point", Harry admitted. "But there is always a cost attached to zero social skills, a downside which affects me too. I'm no more likely to make friends now than I was at Hogwarts and to be honest I'm more than a little tired of being the public cover for your fanatical anti-male behavior.

"I am not really asexual", Hermione said sternly

"Does that mean that you like girls now? Sweet Merlin; how would I know? You're at an embassy reception in Dublin and the only thing feminine about you is the fact that you are wearing a dress." Harry snarled in a foul mood…while feeling a bit envious of the way Neville and Ron chatted, as only best mates do. "You're not wearing any perfume, no make-up or lip-stick either and when was the last time you bothered to have your hair done or even magically shave your legs? If you're coming-out as a lesbian, our magical media will be overjoyed as they have been at a loss to explain why your other boyfriend's, beside me; haven't lasted longer than a few days. Hell…I can't even recall the last time I saw you naked."

"Are you saying you want to have sex…right here and NOW?" Hermione retorted angrily.

"Thanks for asking; but NO Thank-you. I guess we will always be close friends; Hermione, but I refuse to be used anymore, just to deceive the general public concerning your painfully obvious dislike of my gender. You should be high enough in the ranks of the Ministry by now so as to no longer need **even** a fake boyfriend like me. A man on your arm is as useful to you as make-up…on a Dragon. Who we are; what we are, was formed as we were growing up; so the way I figure it; due to our upbringing and the war that followed, neither of us was built for a lasting relationships".

"Being magical England's only two National celebrities had a lot to do with that I suppose, never escaping the front page of the _**Daily Prophet**_ made an already bad situation even worse". Harry continued in a matter of fact tone. "People don't see us as regular folk; we all but walk on water to them, we're the fairy-tale hero and heroine and frankly; I've always hated it". Harry said with his tone reflecting his growing underlying anger. "That's why I've missed Ron so much; because he was the only bloke that for almost seven years; treated me as a genuine friend and brother".

"You have friends at work Harry", she replied not brothering to deny that she had none.

"I have no more real friends than you do; Hermione", Harry replied taking time as he spoke to take in the sight of his two; seemingly transformed former Dorm mates. "We were always lousy at making genuine friends, instead we have hanger-on's and an entourage of fame-clinging leeches. You're reputation as stone-cold Bitch has allowed you to avoid the worse of these 'creatures' that people like me attract".

"If I act even a tiny bit feminine at work, they won't respect me", Hermione retorted. "Being a bitch is the only way to get somewhat close to equal pay for the same work. On the personal side, I'll concede the fact; that I too sometimes miss the 'fun' atmosphere that Ron, somehow created back at school". Hermione replied reluctantly in a whisper. "But you had to know that he'd reacted the way he did (storming off) when I let him down **gently**!"

"Gently my-foot', Harry snorted again. "I know you of old. You can be a motor-mouth at times, but unusually 'blunt and to the point' when the time comes to answering direct questions. So I really can't see you conveying such devastatingly bad news, by trying to sugar-coat it".

"I don't sugar coat reality, I tell it straight; as it is," Hermione admitted.

"Bravo to the radical Feminist, I know; you always had the strength to face life head-on. With '_gender equality in everything_' being your ultimate goal, including the very 'manly' way you have faced personal problems. I imagine that ending-up living alone with a cat will be a small price to pay for your ultimate goals". Harry said with cutting sarcasm.

"You've made your point as delicately as only an in-the closet _**cucky**_ could", Hermione snarled back in a barely whisper insult. "However; with all that said, I must admit to the disadvantage of being a modern Feminist and that is the erroneous perception that I don't want home and children. Perhaps I overcompensate for my lack of social skills with arrogance…especially by being too brutally blunt during conversations over candle lit dinners. I admit that my inability to create romantic banter does tend to make a girl awful lonely on a Saturday night".

"No kidding really", Harry snorted. "You finally realized that pointing out how so much smarter you are than anyone else in the room doesn't land a girl many dates; even from males who _**claim**_ they support the feminist cause."

She didn't respond to this provocation as she usually did for she was fixated on the appearance-transformed Ron. He was behaving like a cultured gentleman of tasteful breeding which admitted; which was nothing like the scruffy boy she had known so well at Hogwarts.

"Do you think this is another act?" Hermione asked in a near whisper.

"What's an act? Harry asked sounding a bit gob smacked. "I thought we were talking about Ron"

"I am talking about; Ron, I mean honestly, Harry. Just look at him – will you? That bloke over there is nothing like the boy you saw in my pensive or the Gryffindor we both knew seven years ago".

"Well **duh**; like you just said, it was seven years ago", Harry countered sarcastically. "A bloke can change a lot in that amount of time and the proof of that is standing next to Ron right now. Just think of how much Neville has changed from our first year at Hogwarts…to the final Battle. It's been nearly fourteen years since our first ride to Hogwarts and seven years since the two of us broke Ron's Heart. Any bloke can change a-lot in that amount of time".

"You didn't break his heart, I did", she said sadly

"Yeah right, try telling that whopper to the other Weasley's" Harry replied. "They all hate me primarily for two reasons, one; for taking you from him and two…for lying to him about how I felt about you."

"They also hate you for using Ginny as a decoy to hide your feelings for me from the death-eaters," Hermione countered.

"I never used Ginny as a cover for you; they've always gotten that accusation dead wrong. I broke up with her very publicly at Dumbledore's funeral; everyone saw it. In fact I would most likely be married to that hot tempered vengeful little witch right now, if you and I hadn't **danced** in that tent. I'm a national treasure, all but worshiped by countless thousands and yet in my personal life I'm only attracted to extra-strong willed women who want to dominate me?" Harry bemoaned softly.

"Quit complaining Harry. As to what happened in the tent…all I can say; is that it takes two to tango, Mr. Hypocrite", Hermione replied in a whispered aside; her angry-growl clearly apparent. "I didn't rape you and you didn't rape me, each time we 'did it' before Ron's return was consensual, remember? As to 'whether or not' you qualify for the title of pussy-whipped cucky…well that too is up to your definition of the term. But it doesn't really matter to me; who was destined to become your _**dominatrix**_, Ginerva, me or even your new BDSM buddy; Daphne Greengrass. You get-off being spanked by women…you're submissive sexually…and that's the tall and the short of it".

"Our personal lives are a colossal mess; I freely admit that"; Hermione continued, "but in the end the only thing history will remember is you got the job done – we won the bloody war. Being dominated by women is just matter of personal lifestyle like being in a relationship with a werewolf. One hundred years from now no one will recall our bedroom fetishes. If I can find the courage to publicly admit to being an equality-feminist and take the insults thrown at me of being a 'man-hater', then the bloke who faced Voldemort can screw up his courage enough to publicly admit to how much you enjoy bondage games".

"But all that rot is water under the bridge right now, as we've _**given a go**_ at being lovers several times over the last few years and it hasn't worked out … for either of us. We are two negatives trying to make a positive and I've concluded that we basically 'don't fit' as a couple", Hermione said in her customary matter of fact tone. "Can I assume from the way you've been insulting me tonight that this is your standard-gambit of '_unimportant row_' before breaking-up with me".

"Can you remember the last time we made love, because I can't" Harry snapped annoyed at being caught-out

"Making LOVE…don't make me laugh", Hermione replied suddenly becoming angry. "You might get your rocks-off by being tied-up and whipped with a riding crop; but your source of pleasure does nothing for me!"

"You don't like sex…not with a man anyway"

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean? For your information Mr. Harry James Potter, I am not a lesbian or asexual…nor do I** HATE ALL MEN**'. Becoming your dominatrix was your idea as I recall and I do admit to liking whipping your arse for I find it personally empowering, but overall; spanking you doesn't instill a whole-lot of respect for your gender in me. I do despise the sniveling Wizarding worms that I have to work with every day. Brainless bloke's who are so scared to death of me they don't dare to offer problem alternatives. I hate being surrounded by politically appointed spineless Yes-men. I can't even remember when even one of my 'manly' Wizarding Peers at the Ministry…department Heads (who make more in their pay-bucket than I do…I might-add) came up with an original idea of their own. Oddly enough; now that you mention it, after working for years with these Ministry clods; I do sort-of miss the rows I use to have with Ron, his in my face attitude while finding fault in my ideas often exposed flaws in them that I wasn't aware of. Finding the middle road was one of Ron's primary talents".

"The painful truth about you and me; Harry is that we stay together, because we can't find anyone else crazy enough to take on the mess we have made of our personal lives".

"Speak for yourself; I have loads of girls who want to be in my company", Harry protested softly.

"Those so-called ladies are actually nothing more than celebrity groupies, searching for their fifteen minutes of fame and deep down; you know I speak the truth, Harry James Potter. You should get down on your knees every night and thank Merlin that you've never shared your _**fetish**_ with any of them," She said firmly like a mother hen scolding her chicks.

"Yeah-yeah, I know full well the disadvantages of one night stands. It amazes me how quickly a really hot bird can transform from a cuddle-bunny under my satin sheets to a motor-mouth in the pages of _**the Prophet**_ for another tell-it-all exclusive about me cheating on you. Your right by-the-way; I do thank-Merlin I haven't been tempted to engage in my spanking fetish with any of them. Just a hint of that in the _**Daily Prophet**_ could ruin my life". Harry complained half-heartedly. "Hey; hold-on, you Know that you could have all the male companionship you wanted if you didn't act so …"

"… **what**; like the cold hearted Dominatrix you always want me to be when you're in the mood for a-bit of fun?" Hermione retorted sourly. "I'm sorry; Harry, but unlike you I don't take men to my bed just to avoid being lonely at night. I'm not asexual as many at work think me to be, but I do need to feel something emotionally for a bloke before I bed them".

"What you never understood Harry…is that male arousal is really simple; it's either on or off. Female arousal as I have often pointed out to you; is far more complicated; like twenty-five switches on a control panel pushed in just the right order to achieve lift-off. Compare that to the just one visual switch with an always randy bloke and you might begin to comprehend the differences between your gender and mine. You Sir…can't push any of my buttons when your idea of making love involves you being hogtied, gaged and spanked. I gave up on anyone pushing the right buttons on me years ago. That kind of reasoning may be old fashion to some; but I can't help that. I'm not blaming you, by the way; you've tried everything I asked you to try on me. Perhaps there is something wrong with me anatomically which prevents me from achieving orgasm. I sometimes wish I'd been born male and then I'd know what it was like to be you; wherein a large display of cleavage is all it takes to get you as randy as a cat in heat."

"When have you ever shown cleavage?" Harry replied bitterly. "All I'm saying is that you've played down your femininity while dominating every room you enter. Your public emphasizing of the asexual burrocrat side of your personality, has gotten to the point where hardly anyone sees you as female. Is that what you want? For everyone in magical England to see you only as the ultimate epitome of asexual", Harry whispered back. "I've heard it said by people I trust, that you regularly scare blokes away after a single date; an event which is more akin to a hostel criminal interrogation, than a romantic rendezvous"

"If a bloke can't take the heat, then they should stay out of my Kitchen," She replied smugly.

"But you'd get better results …" Harry began.

"I refuse to pretend to be something I'm not", Hermione countered. "I'm not some helpless damsel in distress, I fight my own battles I have opinion's that I'm not afraid to voice. My relationship problems boils down to the fact that you're the only one who every accepted me, the way I am", she snarled.

"_**Not**_ the only one"

"Krum doesn't count I was only fourteen and as for Ron I only kissed him twice, and one of those two was on the cheek, just for luck. I never encouraged his feelings for me because I didn't love him. I firmly believed that I was in love with you and 'truth-be-told' I still am; at least a little bit, but not enough apparently to make a marriage work." Hermione protested weakly while still staring at Ron contemplatively trying to figure out…who the real Ron Weasley was.

"I'm really sorry that as a couple we didn't work out; Hermione, but I can only put-up with your bitchiness for so long", Harry whispered softly. "Each time we became engaged we moved in together, and the heated arguments that swiftly follow. I hate fighting with you especially over unimportant minor things; because such spats would and did add-up eventually to yet another of our break –up's. Come to think of it, I wonder how long Ron would have put up with your arrogant bitch routine if he had to live with you as I have. He could always retreat to the boy's dorm if you're always right attitude…got to be too much."

Hermione nodded her head in absentminded agreement as she carefully watched Ron slowly take in the room, she saw him lean over and say something in a whisper to Neville, who nodded his head in agreement then reached into his pocket and give a small envelope and a tiny box to Ron. Neville then shook Ron's hand…before the botanist abruptly faded back into the crowd.

As Hermione watched; Ron squared his shoulders and with determination move with purpose toward the line of Elvish soldiers, stopping short of the line they defended; before bending down onto one knee; where he bowed deeply at the waist and spoke softly in a language that Hermione had never heard spoken aloud before. Again she was stunned, because she of course recognized some of the words as being _**Elvish,**_ one of the ancient languages of the Woodland Realm.

"He lied to me" Hermione said softly to herself unaware she had also vocalized her thought so that Harry could hear.

"No he didn't," Harry replied while smiling in amusement in Ron's direction. "I was inside your pensive; remember? And what you actually asked was could he speak any _**Elvish**_? His reply was I think; deliberately evasive, but by then you had already made up your mind about him, so that nothing he actually said must have registered".

"As I recall; he didn't reply yes-or-no to anything", Harry continued sounding impressed. "Instead he politely pointed out that under their Law any Elf who entered the trade settlement or spoke to any human on matters of business was required to use English exclusively. Later-on and as a throwaway comment he also pointed out that any decent sales clerk in the settlement…_**worth his salt**_, would never let the lack a native tongue such as Elvish stand in the way of closing a sale. Not implying in any way or at any time that he was such a clerk. Rather clever of Ron actually, he answered all you questions in a way that actually told you nothing."

"Yes that was rather clever of him," Hermione hissed, while her eyes narrowed to angry slits.

The elves were arranged in several rows from the front line soldier back to a single female elf seated in the very back corner. It was a scandalized looking by an elderly elf from the secondary line, an elf which-had after a backward glance for permission; from the one and only seated lady and after getting an approving nod; that then approached the kneeling Ron, and bent over as well while whispering his reply directly into Ron's ear; that Hermione didn't hear at all.

The conversation that followed was a combination of whispered words and pointed gestures as when Ron turned half-way round to point in the direction of the Irish Minister of magic. Another whispered consultation went back and forth from things that Ron said up through several ranks of elves up to the seated lady. Finally the Lady abruptly stood and all the other elves instantly bowed respectfully in her direction while the Front Rank soldiers went down on one knee still facing the humans.

Something very unusual happened next and Hermione knew this - from the horrified look on the other elves faces; as the Lady, who quite clearly was in charge; spoke directly to Ron in an Elvish-dialect totally unfamiliar to Hermione.

Stranger-still by far; was the follow-up, an event which caused horrified gasps of outrage to come from some of the attending male elves. For Ron then bowed again, even deeper his head nearly touching the floor while replying in what sounded like the exact same dialect that the High-born female elf had used. Unexpectedly; several Elves drew their ceremonial swords looking deeply offended; but the Lady elf just chuckled softly which instantly defused the situation.

The lady then by using a different dialect that Hermione somewhat understood; made a few commands in _**Elvish**_ that were instantly obeyed. An opening was made in the line of soldiers, large enough for three elderly elves to fill. Then Ron bowed lower to the lady with both palms flat on either side until his nose actually touched the floor; before regaining his feet and hurrying over to the Irish Minister and guiding him over to the first civilian Elf and making an introduction in _**English**_, which was replied to by the elf in equally flawless English. Other humans lined-up to be introduced utilizing some magical Irish social pecking order that remained a mystery to Harry and Hermione; who were themselves guided to their place in line by some nameless bureaucratic flunky.

Once the reception line began rolling on its own; Ron moved away traveling along the outside of the line of Elf soldiers to the far wall where he bowed again; this time to a solitary elf standing off by him-self. It was obvious to Hermione that Ron knew this particular elf, for he had bowed only slightly and with obvious familiarity before straightened up. However this time Ron remained perfectly still and silent for a few moments; until the elf approached and began another whispered conversation that Hermione was too far away to make out. After a few exchanges the elf suddenly took-on a look of mild surprise, as with great dignity Ron bowed again while presenting with ceremonial formality the tiny box and envelope that she had seen Neville give Ron. The elf reluctantly took the box and envelope; opened both and read the card.

From Hermione prospective the elderly elf didn't like what he saw for he frowned deeply, as if he had just received something very unpleasant and was it clearly with great hesitancy; that he acknowledged these items. The Elf then rudely turned his back abruptly on Ron and although the gesture appeared to Hermione to be deliberately insulting, Ron took the dismissal with a half-smile; as if he had expected the impoliteness. Ron then backed away; still bowing for several feet before straightening-up and then turning about with a satisfied grin on his face he then hurried over to a now clearly relived Neville where the two young men smiled at one another. Seeing this Harry whispered; "Mission accomplished"

"What did you say?" Hermione asked semi-startled.

"Whatever secret task that brought Neville and Ron here tonight, it has just been accomplished,"

"What do you think they gave the Elf?" she asked.

"No way to tell, really". Harry replied. "But just look at the fuss that tiny box has caused. The High Lady her-self has inquired about it," he said while pointing at the obvious leader of the Elvish delegation examining the box she now held in her tiny delicate hand. Her face was a combination of concern and amusement.

"Harry; they are leaving", she said as she tugged at Harry; her eyes fixed on a very contented looking Ron

"Who are?" Harry asked while still staring at the Elves, who showed no signs of leaving or intermingling with the humans. In fact; it was only the three original elves from the reception line that were still speaking directly with the humans. The secondary Elf line would only speak indirectly with the Irish through the front three and the third line only with the second.

Hermione had already noted this unusual chain of command and it made her realize how special it must have been for the leader Elf to speak directly to Ron. The other elves had been as stunned as she had been at Ron's command of their language and customs and Hermione mentally kicked herself yet again at being tricked so easily by Ron during the interview she had with him a mere four days previous. Without another word to Harry who automatically followed her; she moved to intercept Neville and Ron as they made their way through the throng toward the exit.

Ron had been 'begging-pardon' and 'excuse us' his way politely through the crowd when abruptly Hermione appeared right in front of him, blocking his path to the door with her beautiful evening gown covered form, a moment later Harry appearing at her side.

"What's your game then?" She asked sternly, her expression was one of someone who would tolerate no nonsense.

"Well good evening to you too; Miss Granger. May I say that you're looking exceedingly stunning tonight" Ron replied diplomatically with an amused tone and a slight bow. "Look; Neville, it's our old friends from Gryffindor tower, the boy who lived and his lovely Fiancée, the ever brilliant Hermione."

"Wotcha Harry; hello Hermione, fancy meeting you here", Neville said in a clearly relived and upbeat mood now that the package had been delivered, while holding out his hand to Harry, who rudely didn't shake it.

"Like she said; what's you game, and mind-you, no lies", Harry said matching Hermione's sternness.

Abruptly the friendly smiles faded from Ron and Neville's faces. Surprisingly it was Neville that answered. "Potter the ruddy war is over, which means neither of us has to take orders from you lot! Secondly this is Ireland and you have no authority or jurisdiction here. But if you must stick your nose's where they don't belong, my best-mate Ron; was helping me conduct something very private…and my personal affairs are none of your bloody-business; got it? So if you high and mighty Hero's will excuse us mere mortals, we are leaving. There has to be a Pub nearby; where two proper blokes can find a pint and a perhaps even a pretty bird or two."

"You got that spot-on; mate", Ron said to Neville his face an unreadable mask, before turning back to face his former best friends "Arrest us; hex us or get the hell out of our way; Potter. For right now I have no time to waste on high-brow celebrities".

Just then a pair of Irish Aurors rushed into the reception hall with wands in hand; behind them and just outside an Alarm loudly screeched. As panic began to spread among the Humans; while the elves strangely remained perfectly calm as if they had expected this very attack to happen. One of the clearly worried Aurors rushed over to the Irish Minister of Magic, who was in the process of coming-over to thank Ron personally for getting the reception started. The Auror spoke overly loud due to his state of excitement which was easy for the former Hogwarts students to overhear.

"Minister we need to get you and your wife out of here, we are under attack".

"Who would dare?"

"Sir; they look like elves in combat armor."

"Excuse me; Minister", Ron said loud enough to be heard, "May I introduce; Harry Potter and his fiancée Hermione Granger. As they are commonly referred to as Magical England's primary National treasures, it would be a diplomatic disaster if they were injured or killed here.

"Quite right" the Minister said sternly. "You two come along with us"

"Cheerio", Ron and Neville both said simultaneously; both men chuckling softly at the sight of the two heroes of the Voldemort Civil-war; struggling futilely against several overly muscular Irish Aurors, as they were unwillingly escorted to safety.

"Well mate; here we go again", Neville said to Ron as he pulled out his wand.

"No rest for the wicked, I suppose", Ron replied while turning to face the fighting at the main entrance

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To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

Be careful what you wish for

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself a unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here"

And **no;** English is NOT my second language. If you want to blame someone for my butchery of the Kings English there is always the American teachers union.

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Roll film

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"I tell you Kingsley, we have to find out what Happened?" Hermione protested loudly while leaning over the desk of the Minister of Magic.

"You weren't even supposed to have been there, I didn't authorize you or Harry to attend that reception, little-lone getting yourselves almost killed", Kingsley's roared back at his special assistant.

"But you wanted me to find-out all I could about the Woodland Elves and after Ron sabotaged our first meeting…I had to…"

"…Sabotaged…How?" Kingsley interrupted hotly.

"During the interview he deliberately acted like a totally immature clod"

"So what? Hasn't he always been a-bit of a clod?" Kingsley injected softly.

"No sir; he used to be a clod", Hermione declared sounding clearly exasperated, "but he's apparently changed enough over the years; to maneuver me into doing exactly what he wanted. He is also clever enough now, to trick me into dismissing him as an immature dolt; before I could realize how much knowledge he actually possesses on the Woodland Elves and their culture. I had no clue until the reception that Weasley speaks every form of Elvish there is, including a few dialects that I never heard of before.

But that's not the worst of it… he also apparently knows their customs and social protocols like the back of his hand. In a reception room full career diplomats and their expensive experts he made them all look utterly incompetent. He actually knows the Elves to the point that he surprised the-lot of them by revealing his intimate knowledge of their culture and got the noblewoman Elf in charge of the delegation to intervene on some issue".

"What did she say to Ron?" Kingsley leaned forward and asked excitedly.

"How would I know, they spoke a form of Elvish I had never heard before."

"You never heard before?" Kingsley said semi-stunned, clearly surprised.

"I'm not an expert on everything, I mean…honestly", Hermione said in a deeply put-upon tone.

"You're not? …since when?" Kingsley half-joked which only made Hermione even more furious.

"Damnit Kingsley, we let a priceless asset slip through our fingers"

"I didn't let anything get away …and from what I heard from Harry; you all but shouted him out of door with insults concerning his maturity".

"I didn't…exactly…shout" Hermione weakly protested sounding somewhat sulking.

"Well…don't feel too bad about your failure with Weasley," Kingsley said unaware that his special assistant had physically cringed at what he had so casually said…for Kingsley didn't realize how much Hermione hated the term failure associated with her name in any way.

"The Irish fumbled the Quaffle too", Kingsley continued. "Apparently; they wanted the same things we did; Military and industrial espionage information, two things that this particular red-haired sales-clerk, never had. How could we have possibly thought that a loser like him…, who was apparently stuck in a small shop inside that Canadian elf settlement for the last seven boring years… doing nothing more than selling Wizarding chess sets to the yokels. How could such a dull fellow like that have the kind of information we wanted. I doubt that any Weasley…living or dead…has the cunning required to get involved in any kind of espionage".

"I wouldn't exactly say that" Hermione interjected to softly to be heard

"The Americans and Canadians skunked us, plain and simple", Kingsley continued, "they sent us a dimwitted-tradesman with the worthless talent for Elf language's…something we didn't need for '_after-all_' everyone knows that **all** the Elves speak flawless English. We never needed a linguist; we asked for a spy…we demanded an expert, but we were to narrow minded in our focus to realize that they we sending us a bloke whose only real talent was in regularly beating you at wizarding chess".

"Get a judge to issue a warrant and have Harry bring him in" Hermione said feeling both furious and insulted.

"No-can do; old girl…for one thing; _no probable cause…s_econdly; Weasley is still in Ireland," Kingsley pointed out sounding very unhappy, "apparently he and Longbottom are in hospital as both got hurt during the **fun** surrounding whatever happened after you and your fiancée were hustled out of the reception hall.

"Harry and I are no longer engaged, we broke it off for the third and perhaps final time…last night" Hermione admitted offhandedly as if breaking an engagement was nothing unusual for her. "However that shouldn't matter in this case - because Ron is an English citizen and we can insist that any medical treatment required, be done here at St. Mungo's…"

"…Won't work either; at least not on Weasley" Kingsley said interrupting Hermione's rant. "I already tried that ploy earlier this morning. He's legally a Canadian now, gave-up his English citizenship sometime in the later part of last year. I think he intended to make the Western Canadian 'Elf settlement' his permanent home, until he was forced-out of the settlement when his place of business burned to the ground".

"After a couple of months bumming around America looking for work, the still unemployable Weasley apparently followed Longbottom back to England, only to find no work for him here either. According to what his father told me, Arthur isn't sure where his son will settle down now that his Canadian home is gone, but one thing Arthur is certain of…after weeks of fruitless job searching is that the U.K. is out. For Ronald has already informed his parents that with the punitive tax rates and high unemployment here in England, makes a go in business here is undoable".

"Business – what business, I thought he was just a shop clerk?" Hermione asked

"Didn't he tell you, Ronald Bilus Weasley has spent six odd years as an _**apprentice**_, gofer and general shop-clerk to one of the best Wizarding Chess makers in the entire world? It was during his apprenticeship under Jonathan Veselkin that he learned a highly profitable trade. Ron then was supposed to inherit the chess shop where he worked at and all the worldly goods of his late master when Veselkin died…but Veselkin's relatives fought the will and won. Then all of his alleged career success and hard work ended abruptly, when the Vancouver Elf settlement itself burned to the ground about three odd months back. Weasley basically lost everything in the fire…had to start over with very little in his pocket".

"I'm told his chess sets aren't selling as well as the better known Veselkin sets. His Gringotts account is nearly empty; to the point where he's moved back in with his parents", Kingsley declared rather smugly causing Hermione to smile as well…at the thought of Ron's downfall. "So to make a long story short; Ronald B Weasley learned how to make Wizarding chess sets in Canada; but with his master gone he doesn't have the product-name recognition among humans as his master did, to make a livable wage. Add to that being cut off from the elf market, leaves Ronnie as one of life's' great losers. I asked around Diagon alley before coming to work today and no-one I spoke to had ever heard of a Weasley made chess set".

"So…what do we do now?" Hermione asked suddenly feeling triumphant.

"Officially nothing," Kinsley's replied non-pulsed. "The M.O.M. (Ministry Of Magic) has zero interest in anything that goes on outside the borders of the UK, and I told the Muggle PM that…just this morning".

"Was she upset?"

"She was extremely disappointed in '**you'** for blowing the UK's one and possibly only change to get useable intelligence on the high Elves of the West… intelligence that she could have possibly used to her great political advantage with her counterpart in Ireland. The Muggle PM therefore; has been greatly embarrassed in international political circles for putting her faith in; **You**!"

"In me", Hermione retorted sounding outrage.

"She asked me to put my best man on it, or in other words, my smartest witch. Which of course I did", Kingsley said smugly knowing his hands were clean.

"But you picked me deliberately because of my history with Ron; you even ordered me to blow that interview",

"The plan was for him to storm off in an angry fit; not you throw him out. From what Harry tells me though; Ron played you like a base-fiddle", Kingsley explained rationally. "You didn't push his buttons; he pushed yours…when you shouted him out of the Law Department. You lost it, plain and simple and ruined the plan. So; instead as we intended, blaming Weasley for not providing the information we promised to the Muggle PM (Prime Minister). The general public thinks we deliberately refused his help".

"How would the PM know that I blew Ron's interview?"

"I told her of course", Kingsley replied. "Someone had to take the fall for letting down the PM, and when you fumbled the plan, you also got pegged to take the blame".

"OH gee whiz; Kingsley," Hermione snorted "Thanks for throwing me under the bus."

"Nothing personal Hermione, it's just the standardized dirty politics of England", Kingsley said in a matter of fact tone.

"You know how much I hate politics", Hermione snarled at the Ministry.

"If you really want to replace me someday as Minister; you better learn something about the backstabbing and diplomatic lying that goes hand and hand with this job. Learn some social skills for Merlin's sake; discover the art of kissing babies while lying through your teeth to their parents. Lord knows; you already know the most important skill of all…how to use your closest friends to get what you want".

"I never…"

"…Ron Weasley?" Kingsley interrupted.

"Oh, well besides him. Besides; I never encouraged…" Hermione began.

"…Of course you did, Harry told me that he put-up with your arrogant know-it-all act for Ron's sake…for the first five years; anyway", Kingsley interrupted and none to gently. "Hells-bells girl; I'd bet that ninety percent of your problems both public and private with Harry now…boils down to a lack of a Weasley-like peacemaker".

"Aren't we wandering off topic here?" Hermione asked desperate to change the subject. "How do we find out what happened at the reception? Speak with Longbottom?"

"I already tried that too. While you were cooling your heels in my outer office, I was on the floo with Harry; I sent him over to Ireland first thing this morning to speak to Longbottom about what happened at the reception. But Neville was unusually uncooperative, due to some rudeness that he blames on you and Harry, which took place before the fighting started. I really was surprised to hear that following the interview disaster you attempted a second time to dominate Weasley and Longbottom into submission by using the same futile bulling technique you use on Ron the first time".

"I didn't…" Hermione began trying to interrupt

"Any-way"; Kingsley continued unabated. "Harry just explained to me that by using his celebrity status with some Irish governmental flunky… he learned that none of the magical Irish have any idea what was said by Ron in Elvish at the reception. In fact; no one in their magical government speaks any kind of Elvish _**at all**_ and why should they as all of the elves speak flawless English almost exclusively. Moreover from what this hero worshiping flunky told our Harry; Ron's knowledge of their language is extremely rare and forbidden to learn under elfish Law. It is instant death for any unlicensed Human to speak any-kind of Elfish in the settlement. These Royal translator licenses are expensive and very rare…numbering less than ten issued in the last two centuries. We can conclude that Mr. Weasley acquired knowledge is considered very illegal. Therefore if Ronald was to enter the Irish settlement he faces arrest and almost instant execution."

"Sweet Merlin" Hermione exclaimed.

(Flashback)

_**Setting**_; Magical Hospital room, Dublin Ireland …dawn (door opens)

Ron stood on unsteady legs as he finished dressing. He had been offically discharged and was just about to leave. His attire in the style of a 1900's sales clerk from one of the better sections of London the only thing that threw off the appearance a tintype photo of a middle class gentleman from that by gone era was the fact that Ron was wearing an outlandishly orange jumper with a huge symbol of the Chudley Cannon's needlepointed on the center of his back.

"You must have balls of steel to dare to wear that in public" Harry said with a chuckle while standing in the door way.

"Well at Least I still have my balls; I hear that yours are carried about every day in Ganger's old _camping-trip_ beaded bag!" Ron retorted recognizing the voice as he painfully turned around to face his old classmate.

"Wotcha Ron" Harry said; trying a different greeting.

"Auror Potter, what can I do for you this morning?" Ron replied calmly.

"Ron; don't do this!" Harry pleaded

"Do what Chief Auror Potter?"

"Don't act as if we are strangers; please!"

"Aren't we," Ron replied in a tone of mild-surprise. "I tried an amicable greeting at the reception and was rebuffed; you two set the stage last night for our interactions from that point forward and I for one will not play false. So friendly is off the table. I haven't really said a word to you since the war, when I left Granger cuddling with you on that ruddy bridge. I sure that was when she told you that she had finally confessed to me how you two really felt about each other. I notice that you didn't attend Fred's funeral and we haven't found a need to speak during the seven years that followed and I see no advantage to either of us in speaking now. I know what you came here to ask and before you begin I want to ask to whom am-I speaking. The close and deeply personal friend to Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt… Chief Auror Potter of the Magical British Law Enforcement department or Harry James Potter a private citizen?"

"A combination of all three I suppose," Harry replied sounding a bit confused"

"Are you prepared to make an unbreakable vow; that what is said in this room will not be disclosed to anyone else living or dead…on pain of the loss of all your magic."

"Of course NOT, I have to report back on what's said", Harry exclaimed.

"Then I will save us both time by saying the answer to all you official questions is; _**no comment**_."

"Don't force me to arrest you." Harry snarled.

"A Canadian; on Irish soil, don't make me laugh", Ron shot back.

"If you don't cooperate, we could make things hard on your dad at the Ministry", Harry said without thinking and instantly regretted it.

"Spoken like any normal…true-blue …_**Death-eater**_;" Ron spat back, each word filled with contempt. Realizing how badly he had misspoken Harry attempted to back pedal.

"I didn't mean that, Ron. I was frustrated and hurt at you lack of assistance and I just…lashed out."

"I think you should leave…now!" Ron snarled

"I'm sorry Ron, you don't know for how much", Harry bemoaned.

"Funny thing is Potter; although I'm clearly disappointed in how you turned out; I actually feel a debt of gratitude towards you. After years of reflection I find myself thrice thankful that you took Granger from me and rode off into the sunset together. You single-handedly cured this Weasley of his addiction to dominating women".

"Secondly; I agree with the _**Daily Prophet**_ …you two clearly deserve each for another…and finally;" Ron said with a vicious snarl. "I think Rita Skeeter had it right back in fourth year…that your kind of hero truly has earned the right to spend the rest of your life with an owner like Hermione." And then Ron; without another word said, walked by a stunned speechless Harry right out to the hospital room and slammed shut the door behind him. Harry stood in that empty room for a solid minute before he found his voice again.

"We aren't engaged anymore…thank-god" Harry whispered mostly to himself.

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Ron was half way down the hall when he nearly ran into someone coming the other way.

"Excuse me?", Ron snarled as he tried to sidestep the obstruction

"Hold-on there, Ron… it's me, Neville!"

"Oh I'm sorry, mate. I just had a bad run-in with Potter"

"What did that bugger want?" Neville asked disdainfully.

"He wanted to know what happened at the reception after he left, I suppose. I guess the official Irish aren't talking to isolationist England".

"I don't blame them"

"Oh it gets worse; Potter just threated my Da's position… if I didn't '_play-along_'," Ron snarled.

"He didn't?"

"He did; apparently the Ministry has returned to blackmail and intimidation to get what it wants, Cornelius Fudge would be so proud".

"What happened to Harry? I use to look up to him." Neville said sounding disappointed.

"You tell me, you've been back in England two months longer than I have. What does my sister say about Potter…when you're not snogging her?"

"You know that I'm seeing Ginny",

"You've fancied Ginny since Hermione gave you the '_just friend's speech_' when you asked her-out to the Yule-Ball during fourth year. So of course I know. I must say that I admire your guts, my sister has the short-fuse temper reputation of a hell-cat in heat"

"I try my best not to anger her, but life with her around is never dull." Neville conceded with a satisfied smile.

"Is it worth it, dating a hell cat?"

"She's nothing like Granger, if that's what you mean", Neville replied. "She is strong-willed without doubt, but she doesn't try to dominate every single room she enters. She is very passionate on some things and will let you know her feelings without hesitation. I'm always mindful of her temper and try my best not to set her off, but she is also very passionate…about; _**other things**_, which makes me very glad she continues to lets me date her." Neville reluctantly admitted while blushing hard.

"Good for you mate, make her more happy than angry and you'll have no trouble from me. For we have both learned the hard way; that no bloke is one hundred percent successful at not pissing his bird-off…one hundred percent of the time. Funny thing is that's the kind of relationship I have been looking for. Somewhere between totally submissive and bird brained; like Lavender, and the bitchy…dominate everything…creature that Granger has become, a girl who still thinks of me as thick as a block."

"Ron; your main problem was the fact that you were too trusting, you didn't realize until too late; that it was the hero she fancied. Besides; Granger doesn't share power…she has to rule, dominate, browbeat and belittle anyone she considers intellectually inferior. Ask any number of our old-classmates; they'll tell you. Harry's marks at Hogwarts where not much better than yours and yet in spite of not being her _**intellectual equal**_ either…he still seems to be pure cat-nip to Hermione. I frankly doubt that she would have chased after Potter at all, if he hadn't been '_**the boy who lived**__'_ …he's the star of the movie that girls go nuts for; with the rest of us merely supporting cast.

"I wonder why he puts up with her shite?"

"Why did you?" Neville asked Ron as they left the hospital and crossed the lane to a small Pub.

"My master Jon use to ask the same thing." Ron replied as they moved to a booth in the back.

"What did you tell old-man Veselkin?"

"It took me a bit to work-out," Ron replied reluctantly; "but I finally figured-out that I was brought up with it…you as well Neville. Your Gran dominated you the same way my Mum did with me. I can't tell you how often I watched my hen-pecked Da…cower in the wake of her fury. For the longest time that's how I thought male-female relationships worked. Women rule and men cower. George and Bill both fell into the Weasley mating pattern by choosing dominate wives".

"So Granger cured you being attracted to butch-feminists, doesn't that mean you've gone to the opposite extreme, the stereotypical brainless blonde?"

"I dated a fair few, but they all proved to be as disappointing as Lavender was."

"Miss Brown was brainless?"

"No, not really; she just found serious conversations (like about the war) boring."

"So if I get this right… you want nothing less than perfection; composed of a woman that understands what being feminine is all about, with a tiny touch of feminist on the side. The breeder of future Weasley's can hold her own in any serious conversation, a girl who will stand-up to you when you're wrong…nor put up with any dung from anyone else; while having all the charm required to tell a person to go to hell in such a way that they'll look forward to the trip,"

"Well…yeah, am I asking too much?"

"You don't want a slave or a master; you're looking for an equal partner in life. Then yes… you're asking way too much" Neville replied while chuckling softly. "Besides how would I really know if your perfect mate is out there; when my tastes in women tend to run toward hell-cats like your sister Ginny",

The two young men then drank a pint or two and had a pleasant; leisurely lunch in the manner of best friends, joking and laughing at what fate had done to them…totally unaware that from across the Pub and under a disguise spell they were being carefully watched by the chief Auror of England. It was Harry that first observed the three outlandishly dressed men in hooded sweat-jackets entered the Pub and beelined to Ron and Neville who were seated in a booth way in the back.

"Master Veselkin may ve have a word?" the leader of the three said in thickly accented English.

"If you would prefer Elvish we could speak in that, there is no law against it in Magical Ireland" Ron replied in flawless Elvish. "And _**Gentles**_; My name is Weasley as I have no legal claim on the name Veselkin, his great-great grandchildren contested Jon's will and won in a Canadian magical court.

"Is that why you left so much behind in the settlement?"

"I was legally barred from removing anything that I couldn't prove belonged to me…until the outcome of my appeal, which was still pending at the time of the fire."

"Then it is true, you lost everything in the Fire?"

"Not everything, Milord. My master taught me many things; an honorable trade for one thing and loads about your people for another. Someday, hopefully…my passion for my occupation will earn me a respectful living. But please forgive my lack of manner's…may I introduce my luncheon companion,"

"No need, most woodland elves know master Longbottom, especially after the reception."

"You knew about master Longbottom's…_problem_."

"Oh my yes, your unique solution to that unpleasantness has sent ripples throughout the realm"

"What did I do wrong?" Ron asked

"No-no...you misunderstand me, you followed custom to the letter invoking tradition in its proper form, something that was unexpected in a mere human. The Duke could hardly refuse the gesture. The three royals…when they heard; also were extremely happy the incident did not end with cross species bloodshed. In just a few minutes you greatly undercut the possibility of a tragic change in the _**divine mandate **_that the Longbottomunpleasantness almost triggered".

"You and your friend then proceeded to have the gall to prevent the attempted assassination of her ladyship which would have literally…started a civil war back home. In less than an hour you two defused several divine mandate changing issues that could have forever ruined the status quo within the Realm".

"Milord I had no idea that in interfering…" Ron began

"You dared to stand between two powerful factions and thus unintentionally exposed those noble families behind the conspiracy to force a chance in the mandate. Because of this the woodland realm is beyond measure in you debt and with that in mind; we have been wondering why a master chess-maker like you…has not applied for shop space in the new Settlement? "

"The reason is simple, Milord; I cannot open a shop in your Irish settlement,"

"And why not?"

"Well for one thing, the penalty for a human speaking Elvish is death and I spoke Elvish at the reception", Ron said calmly

"Not true, on several points", the leader of the three elves replied. "The statue specifically states Elvish spoken within a _Woodland Realm_ trade settlement by humans not licensed as sanctioned interpreters by the three royals; is punishable with death…and your late master Veselkin arranged for you to take over his license; two years ago. Secondly; the offense happened within Irish territory and not an Elf settlement. Therefore the law doesn't apply. So that is not a legitimate reason to not reopen"

"Alright then;" Ron replied sounding mildly stunned and a-tad surprised, "your proposed Irish settlement is one third the size of the Vancouver settlement."

"Which was being overrun by spies and criminals who had nothing to do with legitimate trade, Overpopulation in a limited space breeds sanitation problems and disease as well."

"Are you saying that my home was burned to the ground because of the rat problem?"

"The two hundred year-old sewer system was simply not up the task. Crime was out of control, and the elvish board of governors assigned by the three royals had become so entrenched in acquiring personal wealth they had become hopelessly corrupt. A specially called privy council, decided five years back to relocate our trade settlement…a move greatly opposed by the families that ruled the old settlement.

"And the fire?" Neville asked.

"Not an accident, the fire was deliberately set by overzealous household troops assigned to oversee the evacuation. These troops were to see to it that no humans stayed behind in hiding when the settlement was closed. The troops came from the household guards of several elvish noble families that openly oppose any kind of trade with Humans. Political capital was heavily used to see that they were not prosecuted with the justification being that some one hundred humans bodies were found in the ruins."

"One hundred?" Neville said sounding horrified.

"One hundred spies or criminals intent on looting" the elf leader replied without sympathy.

"I thought elves were a secretive lot, won't you get in a-bit of trouble for telling me this?" Neville asked.

"He knows all of this already", the leader said pointing a finger toward Ron.

"You do?" Neville asked Ron sounding surprised.

"I suspected some of it, from things Jon said to me before he died", Ron conceded softly. "The streets were always filled with rats, garbage and all kinds of human filth that the city governors made no effort to clean-up; because the seven Elf families put in charge two centuries ago; couldn't be removed from office. Gradually cutting back on city services just increased the governor's personal profit… I suppose. The settlement was in decline for the entire seven years I lived there and it was really getting bad just before the end".

"Why didn't I notice?" Neville asked half fearing the answer.

"You worked and lived at the imperial gardens, located just outside the settlement containment walls", Ron said in a matter of fact tone. "Why do you think I always came to your place for a visit?" The restaurants outside the wall were better as they had more of an; Elf-toff clientele. Getting a pass to see you wasn't easy; but it was the only chance I had to see even a little of the Woodland realm. Besides; didn't you tell me that the chief Elf gardener warned you from going unescorted into the settlement, especially at night? At the end; entire sections of the settlement were under the control of criminal gangs who paid tribute to the governor's to leave them alone. In fact; I did all my shopping in magical Vancouver, for it was far safer."

"You lived in the elvish version of Knockturn Alley for years?" Neville said sounding genuinely surprised.

"The same can be said for parts of many human cities; Neville", Ron said. "I lived above my master's shop on the border of the tradesmen district which had heavy Elf foot traffic. So the area around my home was heavily patrolled by law enforcers; but year by year the filth of the rest of the settlement creeped its way into the better neighborhoods. The Elf governors knew it was affecting their graft but after two centuries they were too corrupt to care. It was like the graft found in the tea/opium trade with China in the 1800's.

"How in merlin's name do you know about the tea/opium trade?" Neville asked.

"Jon loved historic parallels, said that all cultures grown corrupt with time. I picked it up a love of history from him. He predicted the end of the settlement long before the expulsion edit forced us out. Jon however underestimated the Elf nobility ability to set up an alternate settlement to replace the corrupt one before it failed".

"So, Master Weasley, now that you know you won't be executed for speaking Elvish, will you reconsider opening a shop in the Irish settlement", The elf leader asked forcefully.

"No, Milord"

"Why not?"

"I've studied the pamphlet you put out through the Irish magical government concerning the settlement and you've made a few logistical mistakes in picking this location. For one thing there is no Muggle rail line that comes within twenty-five kilometers of the entrance on the human side, and the only road into the box canyon where the gate into the settlement is located …is only a lane and a half wide, with single lane bridges",

"Meaning what?"

"You have also forbidden the residents from living inside the settlement…"

"…To prevent overcrowding"

"The shop keepers cannot enter the settlement before sunrise and have to be out two hours after the sun sets on pain of death."

"…reduces crime and prevents spies"

"No food establishments of any kind, or any grocers nor warehouses within the settlement.

"Yes that's right, it leaves no places for diseased rats to hide and breed."

"Well; I'm no city planner, but whoever set up your settlement in this fashion has doomed it to fail."

"What?"

"All the support services needed to make a marketplace flourish are missing from the elf side of the gate. Living accommodation and all the shops that that support it are therefore forced to be on the undeveloped human side of the gate; in a narrow box canyon with only one way in or out. There is no sanitation network established to accommodate even a tiny workforce. The transport system in place on the Irish side right now; cannot support even the modest marketplace of a tiny village. There are no warehouses to store the goods prior to sale…nor places to house or feed its workers. You're asking the magical Irish to create from literally nothing; a massive infrastructure for a huge market that primarily benefits the elves. Why should the magical Irish pay-out all that gold for so little return? "

"But…but; the applications for store fronts are coming in fast and furious" said one of the elf leaders escorts.

"How many of those applicants know how unprepared you are? How are these shops going to stock their shelves; with only one road into the gate area? People can port-key in but that doesn't work with large physical goods, especially high priced items that tend to be delicate"

"How do you know any of this?" Neville asked Ron

"Jon and I talked a-lot about the end of the settlement and the problems in establishing a replacement for years", Ron said. "Jon assumed the elves would have the burden of creating infrastructure but from the pamphlet I read…you are dumping the entire mess on the Irish. Even if they had the five years of advanced notice like the elves did; I doubt the Irish could have everything up and running smoothly in less than six years".

"That doesn't take into account magical construction?" another of the elf escort said

"Milord your side of the gate took five years to prepare and you're still not ready and you elves don't have conceal everything from the Muggles", Ron pointed-out.

"Muggles?"

"Non-magical humans that out-number us wizards ten or twenty to one, people who can never know that we exist", Neville explained.

"Doomed to fail you say" the elf leader said with dread thick in his tone.

"…or deliberately sabotaged, either way the types and the quantity of the products available will not come close to what's been promised", Ron pointed out "I'd check into **who** set-up this new settlement of yours. I wouldn't be surprised if his loyalty is with one of the families determined to bring-out a change in the _**divine mandate**_.

"Traitors"

"A possibility but not definite, after all when was the last time you had a civil engineering project on this scale… a thousand years or more?" Neville interjected. "Perhaps the minimum requirements of the project as imposed by the three royal's; made this outcome unavoidable".

"It seems, we have underestimated you two"

"Formerly close friends, who think they know us…have done that for years; Milord"

"I hear you are under-employed"

"Yes Milord, you heard true"

"Would you both be open to a retainer, to act as exclusive consultants to the three royals? Say two thousand in gold per-month?"

"Milord!" both humans exclaimed at the same time stunned at the amount.

"Alright…three thousand a month then; for a term of six months subject to possible renewal?"

"Done!" Ron said instantly and Neville repeated it a moment later."

"Good, I have to report … we will talk later … I'll send you a…an owl, yes that's it; I'll send you both an Owl post," The leader said as he abruptly stood; turned and rushed out of the Pub, too much in a hurry to notice if his bodyguards were following. Ron then paid the Pub tab, and on his way out when he stopped at a table by the door.

"It's a good thing they don't let you out in the field; Harry. Your disguise spell is really second rate…lack of practice I suppose?"

Harry instantly dropped the spell and snarled; "what was that all about? Chatting-up elves now, are you?"

"Is that a crime in Ireland?" Neville spat back "And how does what we do outside of England suddenly become your concern. The British Ministry officially has no interest in the Woodland Elves as stated by the '_**Magical Dublin Times'**_ just this morning".

"She will find out what your up-to Ron, and then there will be hell to pay", Harry snarled.

"Tell your wife that I look forward to our next interview", Ron replied.

"She's not going to be my wife, we broke it-off." Harry said really angry now.

"Tell me Harry; did Hermione ever give-up on the idea of SPEW?"

"No; of course not! Hermione never gives up; you know that… why do you ask?" Harry asked curiously.

"Because the same year she came up with SPEW, she also set her sights on marriage to you." Ron said with genuinely felt pity. Harry was gob-smacked by this, so much so; that he didn't even notice Ron and Neville leave the Pub".

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End transmission

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

Be careful what you wish for

Author: Billybob

Category: AU, alternate universe …PGFH Post Graduation from Hogwarts

Warning: The tale you are about to read is not at all flattering to the Chosen-one (Potter), or his bushy-haired…know-it-all…destined fiancée (Granger) _as Emma Watson declared in a 2014 interview, her preference for Hermione to hook up with Potter_…and as one of the only acknowledged members of the now famous Hogwarts _**golden duo**_ that declaration carries weight. Modern Heroes are not perfect demi-God's, they are more often than not just human beings with real flaws. If you can accept this premise; by all means read on.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

Finally an **authors' lament**: I have a habit of reading over a chapter after I post it and I've come across some glaring (and rather stupid) simple grade school level mistakes. I'd like to blame the teachers union; but more likely I had a comic book hidden in my English textbook and wasn't paying attention. I freely give all of you the permission to stop reading this…before you become ill and switch-over to all those other HP stories that take on the JKR characters as adults.

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**Location**; the warehouse district in a Muggle section of Dublin Ireland; in a storage loft converted into a number of overly large flat (apartments)

**Timeline**: four days after Ron was released from hospital.

**Setting**; the doorbell rings on the third floor flat's outer door, the space inside mostly devoid of furniture and window coverings, with the floor covered with moving boxes which the inhabitants of the flat are clearly living out of.

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The door opened to reveal the very self-confident; Hermione Jean Granger, special assistant to the British Minister of Magic. She was dressed in the magical equivalent of a woman's business suit with pressed slacks with a crease so sharp it could cut bread. Ron instantly noticed that Hermione's attire was totally lacking in any of the normal accessories that would have given the slightest hint of her gender. Only the right breast of her hooded cape was a broach, that might have been mistaken as an adornment had not Ron recognized it as actually being a badge with the symbol of the English **Ministry of Magic** emblazoned upon it. Ron shook his head sadly at the waste of a pretty girl and instantly cut to the chase by saying;

"You are out of your jurisdiction, Miss Granger"

"Have you forgotten your manners?" she asked

"Why not? …you did at the reception. So I see no reason to waste time with you over pleasantries'."

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"No comment"

"Aren't you going to invited me inside?",

"Well that depends on who you are, if you are here in any official capacity, however remotely", Ron said in a monotone. "Then you can't cross my threshold without a -_**search writ-**_ issued by the Irish magical law enforcement department".

"I not here officially"

"Then I offer you the same deal I offered Auror Potter", Ron said calmly. "Are you prepared to make an unbreakable vow; that what is said between us will not be disclosed to anyone else living or dead…on pain of the loss of all your magic?"

"Is that necessary?"

"If you want to speak to me; yes. Or you can threaten my family like Potter did and head back home right now…your choice, Miss Granger".

"Harry wasn't thinking clearly when he made that threat, he didn't mean it. We at the Ministry do not condone 'that method' to obtain information", Hermione said in the classic double-speak of government.

"Can we speed this along, I was just about to head out for dinner", Ron said

"You still can't cook…can you?"

"No comment," Ron said while trying to maintain his patience, "and on that note; I bid you a safe port-key trip back to the flat that you share with Potter"

"Harry moved out yesterday"

"Just another temporary setback, I'm sure. I have every confidence that the -_**Mrs. Potter- **_goal you set for yourself back at Hogwarts with come to fruition in short order", Ron said with forced politeness.

"You don't understand, Harry and I don't work", she said sadly.

"The golden duo's love-lives are not really my concern; Miss Granger. I'm sure the gossip columnists will be intrigued of course and the betting pools over your wedding date with have to be adjusted…"

"You're not listening to me, as usual", Hermione hissed as she became angry.

"Not true, I merely recall your never give up … stubbornness … concerning house-elf welfare and know that when you set a goal, you never waver until you get your way", Ron said calmly. "I'm merely surprised that Mr. Potter has somehow delayed the inevitable."

"What's Inevitable?"

"Your marriage to Potter; of course", Ron said. "You still love him…don't you?"

"Well…love is an overrated concept… I mean honestly …it enslaves women to men!"

"Again…no comment", Ron said as he grabbed his 1905 style of black overcoat and matching jet-black top-hat and began to close the door. "Good evening, Miss Granger…or should I say Ms.?"

"We haven't finished talking: Ronald"

"You heard my terms, and I took your silence on the issue as a rejection, so for the final time… good evening Miss Granger" Ron said as he closed and locked his flat door…brushed passed Hermione and pushed the down button on the lift.

"I'll ride down with you then", she pouted angrily, upset at how this was going. She stood next to Ron in relative silence as the lift descended, until she had a thought. "Is there no chance of compromise?"

"I'm afraid not, I no longer have to give ground to you just to keep the peace. Nor do I argue anymore with people I know to be completely inflexible".

"Ronald Bilus; I am not inflexible, I mean…Honestly!" she said in an irritated tone.

Whatever Ron was going to say went unuttered …as he stopped before responding and turned his head to look her directly in the eyes, his expression one of total disbelief. They had reached the street level at this point, and stepping out into the street; where Ron tipped his hat, turned and started walking away.

"Wait!"

"Ron instantly paused in mid-step"

"Can I at least tell Harry?"

"I said no-one living or dead"

"That's not fair?"

"Goodnight Granger"

"Alright, you win", Hermione spat totally unhappy.

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Twenty minutes later, Hermione sat fuming at the thought of having given her first-ever unbeatable vow to Ron of all people; when her promise…her word of honor, should have been enough. She had to admit to being gob-smacked at not having dinner in some dirty local Pub. Instead Ron had taken her to a real restaurant with cloth napkins. He was drinking wine instead of butterbeer and wasn't shoving food in his mouth at the frantic pace of his Hogwarts days. Clearly Ron had changed over the past seven years, maybe even grown-up.

"OK Hermione, ask your questions". Ron said as he pushed his empty plate aside.

"I want to know everything", she said excitedly.

"No,"

"But…but…the vow?" She stuttered in protest.

"You've suppressed your burrocratic impulses to feed your never ending curiosity and I applaud you for that. However; neither of us have the time to go over my seven years in the Vancouver settlement; at least not in the kind of details you hunger for. So narrow your focus and ask specific questions", Ron said.

"What was in the box?"

"Sorry, that's not a tale I can tell, its Neville's story" Ron declared.

"Alright, then", Hermione said having half expected that answer, "How did you learn Elvish?"

"It was spoon feed to me, breakfast, lunch and dinner for six plus years," Ron explained, "via a number of pensive memories of the great Jon Veselkin…my master and mentor. At first he told me that learning everything I could of the Woodland Elves would help me sell Chess sets. And surprisingly he was spot-on about that. But recently, I have had strong indications that he was training me as his successor as one of the nine licensed translators that the Elves allow to speak their language".

"You're a licensed Translator?" Hermione said in clear disbelief.

"Yeah, go figure"

"You can't possibly know as much as you do in only six years."

"This wasn't like Potter's experience with Dumbledore and a one pensive view per visit. Jon had me go into his pensieve's every time things were slow in the shop, and that happened a-lot', Ron said. "He usually taught me magical chess-set making after dinner, when we had no customers".

"That didn't leave you much free time for Quidditch or lounging about doing nothing".

"True, but when Jon took me on as his apprentice, free time and doing nothing was the last thing I wanted", Ron said not at all offended by Hermione's lazy-lout accusation. "I tried to help George and he sold the joke shop from under me, I had seen death; war and heartbreak and I wanted desperately not to think about how badly my life sucked. I wanted to be too busy to think and then fall into bed exhausted…and Jon was just the taskmaster to provide the kind of distraction's I craved".

"But you know so much more than just their language," Hermione nearly shouted in her excitement which instantly drew the attention of the other patrons of the restaurant who all frowned at her, "you know their history, customs and traditions…don't you?"

"Speaking the right words of a language in the right order is never enough," Ron explained, "what makes translator sense, can actually be insulting to the listener. Jon taught me the importance of body language; the way a person dresses and carries them-selves. Jon emphasized strongly the tiny nuances in word meaning, the differences in dialects which separate their social groups by class, level of personal wealth and work position. This knowledge came in very handy when I had to separate window shoppers from serious buyers… besides; eavesdropping on customers who had no idea that I spoke their language was often insightfully… Fun!" Ron said with the same lopsided grin that instantly reminded Hermione of the boy from Hogwarts.

"But in only six years…" Hermione began only to be interrupted.

"… The learning hasn't ended; Jon made eighty years' worth of pensieve's. There are loads of fascinating stuff I haven't learned about the elves yet", Ron said warming to the subject.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, "Do you hear yourself? Ron. You…excited about studying!"

"I'm not the same dull-witted firstie from Hogwarts that I was fourteen years ago, nor the same trusting fool I was just seven years back. Hard life experience has changed me a-bit; although I'm not really surprised that you didn't notice". Ron said as his temper flared; he then rose to his feet and pulled out his wallet to pay the bill. "Now are there any more specific questions you want to ask."

"When can we meet again?"

"_Again?_…what for?" Ron asked mildly surprised. "I'm a former sales clerk and elvish translator; I'm not the sexy spy you're actually looking for. You've had your curiosity satisfied on my… unexpected skill, isn't that enough for you?"

"You played me during our interview by dressing like a illiterate clod, then I saw you do a one-eighty…dressed to the nines as a prefect gentlemen at the reception, finally you take me to an elegant dinner where I learn that you are one of only nine licensed to translate Elvish, you must admit that is a-lot to take in", Hermione said honestly.

"Granted", Ron conceded graciously. "But as England is officially neutral on the Woodland Elf issue, I can't think of what else you might want to know?"

"You are not at all, like the boy I remembered and I wouldn't mind at all getting to know the new you".

"Trying to make Harry jealous won't work, especially by using me! ...Besides; isn't that gambit a tad childish?" Ron said sounding very disappointed.

"CHILDISH! How dare you," Hermione shouted earning disapproving looks from everyone around her.

"You already used me once to get access to Potter's bed; I refuse to be your tool a second time." Ron said calmly.

"It never accrued to you, that I might find you interesting?"

"Frankly…NO", Ron replied. "Feminists as a general rule don't have any use for men".

"I'm not a man hater"

"Good thing to know", Ron said politely with a respectful nod as he turned to leave.

"Ron, wait a minute. Thank you for a lovely dinner." Hermione said flirtatiously

"You're welcome; Hermione…good night" Ron replied; sounding a touch confused at her dallying attitude, before firmly taking hold of himself. He then ended the evening by tipping his top-hat…before disappearing into the darkness.

Twenty minutes later; Hermione unlocked the door to her own flat and suddenly realized that she couldn't remember when she had enjoyed a dinner date more.

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End transmission

88888…for now


	5. Chapter 5

Be careful what you wish for

Author: Billybob

Category: AU, alternate universe …PGFH Post Graduation from Hogwarts

Warning: The tale you are about to read is not at all flattering to the Chosen-one (Potter), or his bushy-haired…know-it-all…destined fiancée (Granger) _as Emma Watson declared in a 2014 interview, her preference for Hermione to hook up with Potter_…and as one of the only acknowledged members of the now famous Hogwarts _**golden duo**_ that declaration carries weight. **Modern Heroes are not perfect demi-God's, they are more often than not just human beings with real flaws.** If you can accept this premise; by all means read on.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

**Billybob's rant**: I tried to be nice about this, but some of you aren't listening. JKR had seven…let me repeat; SEVEN books (not chapters—entire BOOKS) to craft a solid and believable (happy ever after) romance for Hermione (whom she based on herself)…with either the hero; Potter (who in cannon; doesn't like her all that much) or the sidekick; RON (who in cannon; all but worships the ground she walks on).

During her interview in February of 2014, JKR basically admitted to her **failure **(miserably) to pull off a believable romance with either male lead. Then add into the mix; Emma Watson (Actor) who had seemed to have a crush on the seven movie's **star** from day one… put in her two cents by agreeing with JKR. Are you listening people? … The bottom line is; JKR couldn't write a romance novel…to save her arse… and Watson agreed with her!

Example: during a post books interview JKR romantically had Neville marry Hannah Abbott. She also stated that Neville would become a Hogwarts professor (in Scotland) while his loving wife, is running a Pub (_**Leaky Cauldron**_) in London. Find a map people and take a good long look, London and Scotland are **not** right-next to each. JKR has in the Hannah/Neville hook-up given a great illustration of a totally unworkable relationship. Two hard working parents…so who raises the kids and where? Does one or the other commute each day? Does Neville only see his family on weekends? Is this a healthy marriage or grounds for divorce and shared custody?

During several interviews JKR (at one time) insisted that Harry and Hermione wouldn't work as a couple. Watson insisted that Hermione wouldn't work with Ron; because he wasn't her intelligential equal. Harry's grades were nearly the equal to Ron…connect the dots people.

This has more to do with JKR's shortcomings as a writer than anything else. But I will take the world as JKR paints it now …as of February 2014. If JKR thinks hooking up Hermione with Ron was a mistake, who are we to argue? But does that mean automatically that she ends up with Potter? Personally; I don't think the Granger's character should end up with anyone at the end of the book series. She has a workaholic personality; piss-poor social skills and wants to radically change the magical world; whether they want to or NOT…remember S.P.E.W.? Such a determined person…feminist (as Watson proudly declared this during her speech to the UN) has far too much on her plate (goals) to waste time on domestic bliss. Clearly; children would be very detrimental to her career goals. As for Potter; he was raised in a child abusive environment…add in his P.T.S. experiences during the war; blend for five minutes...and the likelihood of him going mental later in life…is what?

Most people start out normal, like the rest of us… but then some become actors and then have to be pampered on movie set's with; a ten person entourage, special food , wine of a certain vineyard and year, rare and exotic candy, special soaps and towels…limousines of a particular color…these things bare minimums or they won't preform. Fame has ruined more good/kind people than anything else. A football player goes from a shared room in a dorm to multi-million dollar estates almost overnight, when his career ends (do perhaps to injury) and he's broke in two years…how can that not; mess with his head.

I'm just writing about Ron here (a mere supporting player) with a sideline that shows one possible future for the golden duo, where overdone fame (being worshiped like National Heroes) has done a number on Harry and Hermione's heads…okay?

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Hermione was back in front of Ron's apartment building, bright and early three days later (a Saturday) the first day she hadn't gone into work in ages. She had a foul tempered Harry firmly in tow and the only reason he had agreed to come along instead of having a weekend 'encounter' with Daphne; was the sheer novelty of his closest friend taking a day off from the Ministry. It had been a long time since she had showed this level of excitement.

They shared the lift with two dirty delivery men and a soft canvas covered loveseat. Strangely enough they all got off on the same floor as Ron's open door flat. With Ron him-self standing in the doorway directing traffic as items of furniture were delivered. Seeing who was with his loveseat, Ron exclaimed,"

"What are you lot doing here?"

"Well hello to you too, Ron" Harry snarled; needing Firewhisky desperately.

"Forgive my lack of manners; but I'm a-bit busy at the moment as you can easily see", Ron replied as he directed the loveseat into the center of the large lounge area.

"That's the last of it governor" one of the delivery men said.

"Yes thank-you," Ron replied giving the leader of the delivery men the customary gratuity. The men grunted something akin to a thank-you as they trooped out of the flat.

"Well come in you two and welcome to my Irish digs". Ron said gesturing around him at the mess.

"How can you afford all this, I have a report on my desk that states you're penniless", Harry inquired…instantly the suspicious Auror.

"Harry's right you know, this is beautiful Victorian era furniture and very expensive", Hermione said as she peeked under the covering at what had been just delivered.

"The style is indeed Victorian, but these are not antiques, this is newly made furniture…a gift, from the Woodland Realm".

"This is elf made?" Hermione asked as she examined the freshly delivered loveseat. "Harry come over here and look at this the workmanship is fantastic".

"You didn't answer my question; how can an unemployed sales clerk afford a flat this big". Harry insisted.

"I share the flat with Neville with my share of the rent paid out of a retainer; meaning…I have a new-employer, which wants me nearby."

"Are you by any chance referring to the magical Irish?" Harry snarled.

"No actually, but who's asking; the British Magical Ministry?" Ron spat right back.

"Ron, Harry has decided to take the vow you asked for", Hermione said in an attempt to defuse things.

"Right then", Ron sighed as he ran both hands through his hair…a clear sign of his frustration. "Can I offer you a cuppa of tea?"

"Don't you have anything stronger?" Harry spat, still clearly short tempered.

"I have a good selection of fine wine; but it's a bit early for that…hold on, I think Neville has an open bottle of Muggle whiskey in the cupboard", Ron said. "How would you like it?"

"Bring the bottle and a glass, no ice." Harry replied; sounding somewhat mollified.

"Very well…Oh Tweaky!"

"_Yes master_" a tiny female house elf replied, as she instantly appeared in the room with a pop.

"You own slaves", Hermione shouted; sounding horrified. Hearing this Tweaky popped back-out.

"Yes, all my family have them now, it's the law of the land. You should know Granger; you helped get the '_**Resettlement Act of 99'**_ passed through the **Wizengamot**." All pure blood families that survived the war were duty bound to take on the burden of those house elves suddenly rendered homeless when their families were massacred in the Thickness/Umbridge purge of half-bloods during the war. As an official in the ministry, they dumped ten of them on my parents. Bill and George got three each, I was living in Canada at the time so I was exempt; but my Da begged me to take some of the families elves off his hands when I came home on holiday. Mum wouldn't let them in the Burrow; you see, so Da has the cleanest work shed in Great Britain".

"So; how many do you **OWN**?", Hermione nearly screeched.

"I care for five,"

"Set them all free; at once…" Hermione snarled.

"No"

"Ronald Bilius… don't you dare refuse me," Hermione roared her anger now beyond measure.

"Miss Granger, control yourself…don't you remember the reason behind the _**Resettlement Act**_? Don't you recall the threat of mass suicide's by the house-elves if we wizards didn't find them families to serve. Setting them free was the worse form of disgrace for them. Every single house-elf the Ministry set free was dead within the hour"

"That's no excuse…to make them…" Hermione spattered, not quite sure what to say now.

"Make them what…work? Something they love to do?"

"But this is asking too much, your flat is a ruddy disaster area?"

"Yes…yes, your spot-on, why didn't I think of it" Ron exclaimed while smacking his own forehead. "They must be straining at the bit".

"Oh Tweaky", Ron said again

"_Yes master_;" came a tiny voice, however this time the fearful elf remaining invisible. "_Please gentle master; don't let the mean witch free us._"

"She has no power over how I run my household; Tweaky. Now go tell the others that I will be taking my guests into the kitchen and closing the door behind us. We will disturb your work less…that-way. Then you may begin with the lounge and dining room, arranging the furniture as you see fit", Ron ordered.

"_Master trusts Tweaky in arranging de furniture_", an invisible voice declared in amazement.

"Of course I do, how would I ever manage without your vital assistance", Ron said only to hear a squeal of pure joy erupt from an empty part of the room. "Once that task is done you can hang the blinds; before moving on to the bath and bedrooms. I give you permission to request the help of Longbottom's three and if they refuse, because I'm not their master… ask them to continue to work exclusively on Neville's sitting room and bedroom, particularly putting the bed together; as their master might have company tonight".

"_Red haired sister_?" the voice asked in an excited tone.

"I hope so", Ron answered wishfully.

"_Master, may I ask when we will see your lady again_?"

"We won't; Tweaky, she went back to California to live with her aunts, the Charmed Ones."

"_Powerful witches, those three, even we house-elves know of them_." the disembodied voice said to her masters back as Ron led an usually silent Harry and Hermione into the kitchen got the whiskey and a glass out of the cupboard and then put the kettle on for tea. Hermione had plenty to think about from what she had overheard. Why was she disappointed to learn that Ron had a…what? A relationship with an American witch, that had ended around the same time the settlement burned. Had she really thought that he would pine away for her in Canada…celibate and silently suffering without her?"

Harry had emptied his glass three times before the kettle was hot enough to make tea, Hermione was use to the sight…but Ron was taken-back by Potter's heavy drinking.

"Harry, before you become totally intoxicated; can you give Ron the unbreakable vow he asked for?"

"Whatever for? You say that what he told you; doesn't affect isolationist England in any way," Harry slurred drunkenly.

"Just do it old-boy, can't you see that what I told her has been building up inside her, like air into a balloon and if she doesn't tell someone soon, she spontaneously bust a-part", Ron half-joked; in a brilliant bit of insight.

Harry couldn't help but laugh…hard, something he hadn't done in a long time, although Hermione of course; found no humor in the comment. "Ok…ok; I vow to keep what I learn from the people in this flat, from anyone else living or dead" Harry managed to say before lowering his head next to the now empty whiskey bottle and closed his eyes with a rare smile on his face.

"And for my part; I hereto alter the unbreakable vow taken by Hermione Granger to allow her to share our previous conversation with her future husband; Harry Potter", Ron added as a brief glow surrounded all three, sealing the spell.

"If you think for one minute I'm going to marry Hermione, your ruddy mental. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to be connected to a witch who hates being a woman and just think-about the way she looks and what it says about me", Harry slurred softly without lifting his head off the counter.

"How can Potter get drunk on three tall glasses of whiskey?" Ron asked in a worried tone.

"Three glasses after he got here. I woke up this morning to find Harry already in my flat with two empty _**Firewhisky**_ bottles at his feet".

"He's got a drinking problem"

"No really, do tell! And I imagine you don't drink…when you get depressed?" Hermione pointed out sarcastically.

"Have you already forgotten what I told you about my desperate need to leave England?" Ron snapped back irritated. "You and Potter did a real number on me and frankly I was an emotional mess…with war related 'P.T.S.' just one of the things wrong with me. Although I hate the fact, that Shacklebolt abandoned us Brits in Canada, however; I can't help but be grateful to him for getting me out of a self-destructive environment. Just don't think of me as being free of flaws like some heroic figure; that's your role in life…and Harry's, of course. I'm no living treasure; I have loads of nightmares about the war…and Fred. I'm just a working stiff, a common tradesman".

Before Hermione could give voice to her disagreement; there was a gentle knock on the kitchen door and a soft voice said from outside; "_Master there is someone at de door_"

"Very well Tweaky, I'll answer it'; Ron replied reigning in his anger, "How is the work coming?"

"_The lounge and dining room are finished; master"_. The voice through the door said. "_We still be working on de back rooms_."

"Very well, when you're finished with that you can return to the hutch until needed."

"_Yes master_"…was the soft reply. Ron then glanced at Harry and said to Hermione, "Would you stay with him while I answer the door, I'm not expecting more furniture… I shouldn't be long".

"Alright" Hermione answered as Ron slipped out of the kitchen. When he didn't come back in ten minutes she began to worry, so she peeked out of the slightly pushed open door and was stunned by what she saw. For Ron's lounge was full of Woodland Elves.

"Why don't you invite your lady-friend to join us…translator Weasley?" said the grey haired elderly female Elf that Hermione instantly recognized as the same Elf she had seen leading the elf delegation at the Irish reception. Without giving the snoring Harry a second thought, Hermione pushed the door open and entered the spotless lounge. She couldn't help but pause in mid-step and look around in wonder at what Ron's house-elves had done in such a short period of time. The blinds were now hung over huge warehouse sized windows; the furniture uncovered and polished as was the swept and dusted wooden floor.

Hermione also was quick to notice the moving portrait that now hung on what had once been bare wall. It depicted an elderly gentlemen with a chess set next to him on a side table and Hermione instantly concluded that it had to be none other than; Jonathan Veselkin, Ron's late master and mentor. Surround this centerpiece was muggle and magical pictures of the Weasley and Longbottom families, giving the flat a lived-in atmosphere.

"Come closer young human, I assure you I don't bite", the elderly lady declared. It was only when she spoke that Hermione emerged for her reflection on the lounge and actually noticed the leader elf's entourage. There were a total of ten elves in attendance to the frail appearing leader; including several other females 'ladies in waiting' types… some of which carried wicked looking swords. One female elf stood closer to the leader than the others… with her disapproving eyes fixated on the leader. From the satchel she carried Hermione assumed her to be some kind of medic and the disapproving look on her face was for Hermione the best indicator of the leader's frail health.

"Dame Ellen; May I introduce you to one of England's two living treasures and national Heroes, the ever brilliant; Hermione Granger", Ron said with calculated diplomacy. "This Human witch was and is; the closest companion and confidant of the '_boy who lived_', the conqueror of the evil warlock; Voldemort…the great, Harry Potter."

"Translator you surprise me", the elf leader said harshly. "Aren't they engaged…this lady to the hero Potter? Is it not considered bad form among your species to be entertaining someone else's future wife without a chaperone?"

"The concept of courtship chaperone is not followed by humans; Milady, but rest assured; that I have not violated elf custom. Her future husband is in the kitchen right now, but is too ill to be properly introduced to you," Ron said as he brought Hermione within four paces of the elderly elf. "Do as I do… exactly" Ron whispered as he dropped to one knee and bowed deeply at the waist. As expected; Hermione refused to repeat the gesture which resulted in an uproar among the leaders entourage"

"Silence" the leader commanded and was instantly obeyed. "I expected this rudeness, and any of you who visited the old settlement had to have witnessed before this level of …gross disrespect". What you should have noted was not the ignorance of this human breeder, but how well Veselkin trained his replacement".

"You don't know much about humans, so you don't know that these days…we bow to no one," Hermione growled defiantly. "Secondly; I am no man's breeder',

"I sincerely hope not; making copies of a human with such a colossal lack of manners… would be an intolerable tragedy to any civilized society".

"Just who in hell do you think you are?" Hermione snarled and began to move forward only to be _**petrified**_ by a wandless spell.

"Remove this creature from our sight, for we would speak to the translator in confidence." The leader said harshly to her guards

"Allow me to do it; Milady, she offered insult under my roof…so the punishment by elvish tradition is mine to impose", Ron said regaining his feet and then suddenly had a thought;

"Oh Tweaky"

"_Yes master_" the house-elf replied appearing instantly by her master's knee. The sudden appearance of a house-elf …as Ron had hoped… created a far different type of commotion among the elves, who had never seen a living example of their distant relations. They completely forgot about Hermione's rudeness, in fact they hardly noticed that she was still in the lounge.

"Tweaky, allow me to introduce Dame Ellen of the Woodland Realm. She too is an elf and at one time…countless centuries in the past, your people and hers were one in the same".

"Hello Tweaky, it is a deep honor to meet you" Dame Ellen said with genuine delight.

"_Thank-you great-one_", Tweaky said from the exact same kind of respectful bow that her master had just preformed. This gesture caused sounds of approval from the wood-elves as a very pleased smile appeared on the face of the elderly elf.

"Tweaky," Ron ordered sternly, "remove this offending breeder…take her and her drunken fiancée back to their flat in England, or am I asking too far a trip from you …without risking injury?"

"_Alone is too far, but three of us combined can make de trip without harm_".

"It's not worth the trouble, if any of you are injured doing it" Ron said sternly.

"_We can do dis master, de breeder has offered offence to master's special guests and my kin, we will remove de offenders_."

"Thank-you; my very special servant, all my house-elves bring honor to my house by your mere presence; but your service is valued most highly of all." Ron said genuinely and if Tweaky had been a star in the heavens; her happiness would have beamed as bright as a supernova.

Tweaky then reached up and took hold of Hermione's petrified hand and with a pop they were gone…a second later a second pop was heard from the kitchen and Ron assumed that Harry was gone as well.

"Now to business" I seek your counsel, master translator."

"I live to serve…but may I speak freely, Milady" Ron replied still kneeling on the floor.

"Yes and do get off your knees, sit on the floor before me and be comfortable. Bring me a chair someone, I am too weak to stand any longer". One of the entourage did this; which left the leader looking down at Ron, who expected this to happen and was not at all offended. "But before we begin what do you think of our gift?"

"The furniture is far too good for a mere tradesman", Ron replied humbly.

"That is true enough; but we had an ulterior motive in sending it to you, as the opening of the Irish settlement has been now…delayed indefinitely. Therefore; some of our meetings with your kind will be held here and I sent this furniture ahead; so that my kin will be comfortable"

"Delayed; Milady?"

"Your observations concerning goods transportation that you so kindly shared with our Nephew; Baron Gladwin has shocked to the core the three Royals. Perhaps we were overzealous in our fears…too close to the problem or blinded by internal politics to see the disastrous road we were on. We clearly put too much of the burden of infrastructure on the humans…with only our discussions with the Irish over the last two days fully exposing our folly. They have indicated a construction timeline that was even more pessimistic than your six year estimate. You've saved more than my unworthy life in warning us of this pending catastrophe,"

"I was not alone at the reception or in giving consul to Milord de Baron…" Ron began.

"Rest assured; Master Translator, we have not overlooked the input of your comrade in arms", Ellen said sincerely. "Accordingly; we have decided to continue his retainer payments for two years beyond the original six months, to express our full gratitude. However the Longbottom incident is still fresh in the minds of my people and a very touchy subject among many of our traditionalists…particularly with those noble families that would most directly benefit by a change in the divine mandate. Therefore we must ask that he not return to the woodland realm, in your company or on his own. Your clever solution settled the matter honorably, but the traditionists faction still sees what he did as highly offensive to the point of risking bloodshed. We hope you can live with your friend being brandished for life".

"To be honest; milady, I believe that my best mate has found something that will anchor his future on the human side of the gate".

"Are you perhaps referring to your sister?"

"Milady is very well informed"

"Since speaking with our nephew; Gladwin, the interest in you has intensified in certain royal circles.

"Interest in me?" Ron asked uncomfortably

"And those around you…family and friends as well as your most hate filled enemies".

"Enemies?"

"I refer to anyone that we feel could reduce your usefulness to the three Royals. That ignorant breeder for one, she may be famous in human England, but she would be a disaster if presented at the Royal court."

"I can't see that as becoming a problem anytime soon, as no human as far as I know has ever been allowed out of the settlement long enough to travel the royal capital; and most especially, no human has ever been invited to attend a session of the royal court", Ron pointed out with all due humility.

"Not true, master translator…the nine have been invited to attend court a couple of dozen times during my lifetime alone to offer their human perspective on problems that face the Woodland realm", Dame Ellen said. "And if current events are any indication, you will be at court, sooner rather than later."

"What possible advice could I give to the three Royals?"

"It is that very question that brings me here today", Dame Ellen said leaning forward in her chair to look Ron right in the eyes. "If asked by the royal's them-selves at court, what solution would you offer to the Irish gate problem?"

"Right off the top of my head; milady", Ron said without hesitation. "I would advise re-opening the Vancouver gate",

"Are you insane? Why would you even suggest that? Building the Irish gate has nearly drained the royal treasury …so opening the old one again would force the realm into immediate bankruptcy", Dame Ellen said sounding very disappointed.

"My late master gave this issue a lot of thought before he died and he felt that if the elves tore down the old confinement wall and rebuilt it so that the settlement was ten times its old size. The Royals could then lease the space inside to a consortium of magical North Americans… both Canadian and the (magical) United States… as a self-governing trading colony for one thousand years; with an internally levied sales tax collected to pay for all city services. In this way the settlement would self-sufficient and build with no drain on the royal treasury".

"But the city governors"

"…Would be very human and removable if discovered to be incompetent or corrupt. I'm willing to wager that the North Americans could gather the capital and know-how to get the Vancouver settlement going as a trade center with a bigger volume of goods sold…long before your elf engineers can fix the Irish settlement problems"

"What kind of wager?"

"You want me to set up a shop in a settlement…yes?" Ron asked.

"Of course, we need all our licensed translators within the walls"

"Alright-then, if I lose; I'm willing to open a _magical chess sets_ shop and provide translator services in the Irish settlement… but in exchange the royals must first…as soon as possible, fully embrace the Veselkin colony idea as competition to the now disastrous Irish gate. My wager is that within five years the North Americans will have a settlement in full operation, relatively free of garbage, rats and crime. The winner of this wager/ competition will be the first gate to fully open for bulk transfers of goods without any ruinous logistical problems".

"And if you win?"

"A doubling of my retainer and the three Royals official endorsement of …_**Black knight Chess**_ (Ltd.); as holding a royal monopoly as the exclusive seller of animated chess sets in the Woodland Realm" Ron said firmly.

"Ten times the size is too much… I might consider… twice the size,"

"Seven times…" Ron countered.

"Four…"

"Six…" Ron said.

"Five… final offer"

"Done" Ron conceded reluctantly.

"You have given me much food for thought", Dame Ellen admitted.

"Yes milady; but please remember that my wager offer is only for a limited time", Ron pointed out honestly. "With the five years beginning the moment the royals agree to my master's colony proposal. The competition would be unfair otherwise".

"Who will take this proposal to the North Americans…you?"

"I could do that if you like, act as your agent, provided I'm granted full powers to negotiate for a human colony", Ron replied.

"Not without a small delegation from the Woodland realm going with you to oversee these negotiations,"

"Provided that the elf delegation is composed 'exclusively' of members from families in favor of trade with us humans… I agree", Ron said instantly.

"You speak too fast, master translator"

"I'd like to take credit for all of this; but to tell the truth, this conversation has been hashed through more than a dozen times and then rehearsed with all possible objections debated, by my master and me for years before this meeting.

"So this is all Jonathan's idea",

"Yes Milady, but time is running out", Ron explained. "For the Americans to buy into this, they need a sporting chance to beat the Irish."

"I will personally bring this proposal to the three royal's attention today", Dame Ellen said as she slowly and painfully rose to her feet. "I asked for your honest consul and dammed if you didn't give me an ear full. But how can you really be so sure the Americans will foot the bill for the entire settlement…except for the containment wall?"

"Well…Milady, the Americans had an exclusive monopoly on all trade with the woodland elves from 1805 until 2005, and I got the option after the settlement burned down; that they would pay any price to get that monopoly back", Ron replied without hesitation.

"The realm right now is facing ruin over the Irish gate and frankly we saw no way out of this situation which didn't involve a change in the divine mandate. Once again master translator…you have provided an honorable solution to a complexing problem. A desperate idea, I think…but we live in desperate times. Does your retainer keep you close to here?"

"Yes Milady, nearby and on call. Besides; I have chess sets to make" Ron said with a resigned shrug.

"We will be in touch", Dame Ellen said as a golden glow appeared around the elves. A moment later, the lounge was empty.

"Well master, what did you think of my presentation" Ron said to the magically moving portrait on the wall.

"You did it exactly as we rehearsed it; Ronald, whether or not, it flies is anyone's guess now." The spirt of Jonathan Veselkin said to his apprentice. "By the way…if that foolish girl is 'the' Granger, the one who played you for a fool so long ago…after seeing the way she interacted with the Woodland Elves, all I can say is that you are well rid of her. Really Ronald you can do loads better than that asexual shrew".

"Yes master, I came to that same conclusion…years ago"

888888

End transmission

888888…for now


	6. Chapter 6

Be careful what you wish for

Author: Billybob

Category: AU, alternate universe …PGFH Post Graduation from Hogwarts

Warning: The tale you are about to read is not at all flattering to the Chosen-one (Potter), or his bushy-haired…know-it-all…destined fiancée (Granger) _as Emma Watson declared in a 2014 interview, her preference for Hermione to hook up with Potter rather than Ron_…and as one of the only acknowledged members of the now famous Hogwarts _**golden duo**_ that declaration carries weight. Modern Heroes are not perfect demi-God's, they are more often than not just human beings with real flaws. If you can accept this premise; by all means read on.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

I am not even remotely a trained writer; I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here"

888888

Roll film

888888

Ron sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He had worked long into the night and had roughed out another magical chess-set based on a Muggle set he had seen in an Irish museum. It was a _one of a kind_ hand-made chess-set made for an Irish noble family that lived in the late fourteenth century. The copy-rights had expired several hundred years ago and the museum had signed off on Ron's right to manufacture it…as long as he produced five non-moving Muggle copies to be sold in their gift shop.

This was the method established by his mentor the late; Jonathan Veselkin, he would find old chess-sets in thrift shops, estate or garage sales…restore them to mint condition, tweak the workmanship a-tad…and then use a special charm spell to animate them for wizarding chess. Since the fire, Ron had wandered about; first in London and now in Dublin's second hand shops looking for these discarded… _diamonds in the ruff_. Unlike his master who preferred to seek out complete Muggle sets to transform into magical, Ron was more interest in the quality of the workmanship and would pay well, even for chess sets with a missing piece or two.

Now in his third day of waiting for a reply from Dame Ellen, Ron would get up with the sun and search Dublin's second-hand shops for these hidden jewels. He had already designed six original magical chess-sets based on museum examples and reproduced ten copies of each. The finished product actually took up most the space in his walk-in closet. They only awaited a catalog printing and mailing before they could be sold. Ron's workshop; _such as it was_, had taken over the flats third bedroom. Neville had insisted on this, although as a concession…the huge warehouse window had row after row (reaching up fourteen feet) of shelving covered in all kinds of magical plants,

There were freestanding; bulk storage-racks everywhere else; filled to overflowing with uncarved wood and stacked in-between…in any open space, from floor to the ceiling were old and falling apart _Muggle chess sets_…just waiting their turn to be restored to playability. For the truth was; that Ron got far more enjoyment and satisfaction from restoring antique sets than in fabricating his own designs. He was just pulling on his shoes, when he heard a pop.

"_Good morning master_"

"Good morning Tweaky." Ron replied sleepily.

"_Breakfast Master_?"

"Yes, the usual… did master Neville come home last night?" Ron said.

"_Yes master; but he and red haired sister then made de beasts with two backs…loud noises_"

"Too much information Tweaky", Ron said slowly. "Did they remember the silencing charm?"

"_No master, so I took the liberty, was I wrong_?"

"No; casting the silencing charm is a standing order in this house; whenever master Neville has someone sleep-over.

"_Red haired sister did not allow master Neville to get much sleep_,"

"Again Tweaky … too much information" Ron said as he headed to the loo to wash-up, "is there anything else?"

"_No master_".

Exiting the washroom Ron moved to the dining area, he was not surprised to see Ginny at the table already eating her own breakfast, wearing nothing but one of Neville's ruffled dress shirts with only one or two buttons holding the garment together.

"Morning Ronnie" she said between bites, "Neville said you were cool with this"

"You are twenty-three; Gin-gin, more than old enough to make your own decisions," Ron replied as he sat down across from his half-naked sister… a moment later his breakfast appeared before him: eggs, bacon and toast.

"Don't hurt him please" Ron asked softly

"Oi … what's this, shouldn't you be worried about me getting hurt?" Ginny half-protested and then chuckled when Ron gave her a sour look.

"You're the lion and he is the lamb in this…and I can't honestly think of way that he could take unfair advantage of a world-wise woman like you", Ron said seriously.

"He adores me, doesn't he?" Ginny said in a soft and meaningful whisper

"He'd walk on broken glass to bring you a single rose"

"That elf bitch, did him wrong…didn't she" Ginny asked softly.

"That's one way of putting it!"

"Neville said they were going to kill him for having an affair with a married elf and you somehow found a way to fix it by turning their own precious traditions against them"

"That's not exactly the way it happened, and Neville should be the one to tell his own story, not me. I only was involved at the very end and really didn't do all that much", Ron said.

"That's dragon dung and you know it", Neville said angrily from the doorway wearing nothing more than a pair of sweat pants. "You broke me out of one of their prisons (only Merlin knows how) and then smuggled me out of the settlement on the same night they torched the place".

"Neville damnit…no one is supposed to know I did that", Ron bemoaned. "I just have a decent memory for certain specific things…and was level headed enough to remembered and then used; some of the few spy-craft stuff, which they taught both of us…before we became two good-little decoys for them. Bloodly hell, don't you remember; they taught you how to pick a lock?"

"I forgot all that spy stuff", Neville admitted sadly

"I don't need M.I.6 to teach me that; big brother…as I recall; the twins taught us both how to pick-locks, around the time when I turned ten", Ginny interjected and then chuckled at the memory.

"They did, didn't they?" Ron chuckled as he too recalled happier times. "However the point is…do you have any idea how many Elf laws I broke; in just getting…", Ron began, before being interrupted again.

"… Don't you want your sister to know that you're a ruddy hero?" Neville said

"Really mate, the less said about that night; the better", Ron pleaded.

"Boys…boys, settle down please. Okay; what happened the night of the fire is a big hush-hush secret. I get that part", Ginny said firmly. "I don't really need to hear any more details about how Ronniekins saved my hot-lover's bacon. I'm use to my brother doing stuff for heroes that's then gets brushed under the rug and overlooked by everyone in the bloody world, it's all a-part of the Weasley curse".

"It's not a curse to be overlooked: Gin-gin, it's a blessing", Ron said firmly. "Blending into a crowd and hiding in plain sight is the best spy-craft lesson I was ever taught. Jon wanted me to dress properly as a middle-class elf would for the same reason…so to put the person across the counter from me at ease. Half or the reason I got away with what I did at the reception; was in the fact that I dressed and acted like an elf of their minor nobility. Their guard went down, for they thought of me as being a harmless male…and one of their own kind".

"The best human magicians are experts at the _sleight of hand_, to make their audience watch one hand while the other picks their pocket. It was pure prestidigitation that got Neville out of the settlement when every elf law-enforcer was looking for him. I knew the elf guards at the gate by name and always asked in the elf custom after their families. I dressed like them and followed their traditions so spot-on, it got to the point that they felt so 'at ease' at seeing me come in and out of the gate, (which happened often)…they rarely checked my packages".

"So you shrunk him down and walked him out in a box," Ginny interjected.

"It was one of about fifteen boxes and included everything I was lawfully allowed to take from the Veselkin shop under the evacuation order".

"You can tell her the rest if you like; Ron", Neville said. "I don't want any secrets between Ginny and me. Tell her why I can never go back into the Woodland Realm, why I'm banished for life".

"Banishment is better than being dead, old-chum", Ron said sternly.

"But why; Ronnie?" Ginny asked sounding curious. "What did Neville do to earn himself a death sentence?"

"That's a-tab complicated", Ron said rubbing his chin as he thought over how to proceed. "The first thing you have to understand is that elvish customs and traditions are the literally the cornerstones of their entire society", Ron explained. "We humans have religion and make laws to keep us from doing all kinds of nasty things to each other…such as murder, rape, and thief. Most people don't realize that the Elves have been civilized for thousands of years before we humans build our first village. Their traditions are how they keep their entire race from literal Anarchy".

"As Neville can probably tell you," Ron continued, "anyone who has seen the Woodland Elves in the old settlement can't help notice that they looked a-bit…stiff".

"I'd say 'repressed' would be a better word." Neville snarled.

"Elves have; in comparison to humans, become masters of many kinds of magic that are frankly …way beyond what we can do", Ron continued. "After decades of observation, my master Jon determined that the reason that the Elves are more powerful than the average wizard…boils down to rigid self-control. Perhaps you noticed Neville; that the elves we met in the settlement always think hard over any issue (no matter how trivial) before they speak on it and have their emotions under an iron-tight grip at all times. Well there is a biological reason behind their racial obsession with self-discipline, and that has to do with the never ending battle between the sexes and with whom and when an elf is allowed to procreate".

"He means that chatting up an elf bird is not only illegal … it's considered to be impossible. So human blokes as a general rule…didn't even try", Neville interjected bitterly.

"Human men can't figure out what our women want and our females think we are being deliberately dense just to irritate them", Ron continued. "A wizard can remember the final score of a Quidditch match from ten years ago and yet at the same time forget their own wedding anniversary or their own child's birthday. As for human women; I have yet to meet a man that really knows what goes on in your heads. The point is; that in the battle of the sexes the two human genders (more often than not) don't even speak the same language."

"However; as bad as we humans have it when it comes to relationship miscues the Woodland elves are…believe me… a thousand times worse off. So to prevent huge confusion and romantic errors which often leads to blind-rage jealousy and battles to the death over a potential mate; the elves have ritualized their courtship and marital duties into strict and inflexible, elaborate customs and traditions".

"Alright then … you are saying the elves buy and sell their women like breeding chattel", Ginny snarled not at all happy at the thought.

"No gin-gin you have it backwards", Ron said grinning big at his sisters easy to make mistake. "It is the males that are bought and sold into arranged marriages by their women…it is the males that are reluctant to fornicate and it is the female elves that are the aggressive…randy ones".

"Your pulling my leg", Ginny said in a semi growl.

"No…I'm deadly serious", Ron said. "Although a biped with the same _outward_ anatomical features of a human, the woodland elves are as different from a human being as I am from a centaur. It is generally believed that an elf and a human can't even breed. Fornicate yes, make a baby…no".

"If human blokes don't dare chat up their birds, how did Neville end-up have an affair with a married elf?" Ginny asked.

"It wasn't my idea, she used me… I was raped…multiple times." Neville said as he hid his face in his hand, feeling ashamed and humiliated.

"That's not possible…you're lying". Ginny said now becoming really angry.

"Ginny, you don't understand", Ron said trying his best to calm his sister and explain. "Human rape is not at all about sex, it's an act of violent dominance, where the human male uses his physical strength to have his way. As the elves are a different species from us…their females are born with special glans that excrete hormones that totally controls any male in within five meters …in the exact same way that a Veela can enthrall a human male.

"In elf sexuality, it is the female that is the aggressor; it is she exclusively who chooses her bed-mate and the father of her children. Jon explained to me that the males in their society are generally passive and contemplative…deep thinkers; even in the case of war. Very few males volunteer for the warrior caste, the _one and only_ place where the male gender is allowed to display violent aggressiveness. I'm even told that the excess female population is culled or thinned of those who cannot acquire a legitimate mate…by drafting them into all female battalions and sent to the front of the fiercest fighting…it is theses warriors that are the foundations of all our Amazon myths. Most elf warriors are female and from what I heard; they have never been beaten in battle".

"Women kicking arse… cool", Ginny said smugly.

"You don't know the half-of it", Ron continued. "For the elves are a purely matriarchal society; their rulers (the three royals) are all female. The heads of all the noble families are female. Females own all business and run absolutely everything. There are plentiful stories of sexual aggressiveness and unfaithful spouses among the elves; but they're **all** about women. They have too numerous to count legends that has filled to bursting their folklore, all about women raping uncooperative males…each and every one of them, predating the human account of Joseph and Potiphar's wife in the bible…by at least two thousand years".

"If the female is the guilty one, why was Neville…the victim…arrested and condemned to die." Ginny asked reasonably. Hearing this, Ron turned to Neville and waited.

"Alright-alright… if you must know; a tiny part of me, liked the way she took charge", Neville admitted feeling ashamed once again.

"What does any of this have to do with me and Neville?"

"Just a guess", Ron suggested. "But perhaps the _**hell cat**_ in you might be the reason Neville always found you to be so irresistible. Your anger management issues has lost you how many boyfriend's in the last year alone…Ten? Now tell me exactly how long has Neville endured your flares of foul temper and yet still stuck with you. The way I see it…fate has dropped in your lap a bloke who actually wants to mud wrestle with a fiery; red-haired dragon. I mean; what more can you ask of Aphrodite?"

"What does this have to do with why Neville was arrested?"

"Well the elves are really good at reading minds, and I suppose that when the time came to read Neville's they discovered that tiny part of him that cooperated in the kinky and very much forbidden… elf/human sex" Ron continued. "Willing sex between an elf and a human is a capital offense punishable by death. The chief Royal gardener; whose wife committed the crime, was politically connected enough to get his wife death sentence commuted, but he couldn't do anything for Neville.

"So the gardener contacted you?"

"Yeah" Ron replied.

"And you…broke Neville out" Ginny said.

"Yeah"

"And no one else suspects you did it?" Ginny asked.

"I'm a dull-witted clod, a simple sales clerk, an all around loser… no one thinks me capable of anything even remotely like this",

"A bloke that can hide in plain sight … that is seen but unseen," Ginny said her eyes going wide in understanding.

"See what I mean about the blessing of being overlooked", Ron said smiling big

"Ron I will never think of you as just a boring shopkeeper…ever again", Ginny answered with obvious pride.

"Personally I like being **just** a shopkeeper; because I'm damn good at it…although no one seems to believe me. But remember what I said; Neville has been a better _**best mate**_ to me than Potter was on his best day. Harry was always a 'taker' as far as I was concern and Neville is the giving-sort. Besides; it's Neville that has also just shared with **you**, the biggest, darkest secret of his life…and I'm guessing he's feeling a-little vulnerable about now," Ron said while pointing at the now empty doorway where Neville no longer stood. "He might need some girlfriend reassurance."

"I'm on it" Ginny said while getting up. "You know…I'm really proud to call you brother"

"I feel the same way about my little sister…the-_** Harpy**_". Ron replied to Ginny, who chuckled softly as she walked back to the bedroom she shared with Neville

"Bed him well; my lady, bed him well", Ron said; softly reciting a cinema, movie Quote.

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"_Master_?"

"Yes Tweaky"

"_There are three, Woodland Amazon's; that have just appeared in our lounge. They are armed and armored._"

"I'm on it" Ron said while getting up and moving quickly over to the lounge.

"Are you Weasley the licensed translator?" the lead female elf said in low elvish.

"I am the Translator…and who are you to come here with so ill courtesy" Ron replied also in elvish.

"We are of the Royals Watch…Guardians of the most high…sent hither on their command"

"Carry out your charge, then" Ron said with all-due formality.

"We carry a personal communiqué from the most high, also written instructions and official credentials as a personal representative of… _**the three**_. You are ordered to sign for this package"

"Understood, is there anything else" Ron said as he signed the receipt

"Just a verbal message from Dame Ellen, you are requested and required to wait no longer for your elf negotiator comrades as there is some disagreement on who can be trusted with something of this importance. You are to contact the interested parties on your own as soon as possible. The five year clock starts now…Is this message understood?" The lead Amazon said as she handed over the package.

"Yes" Ron said softly…and a moment later, the three Royal Guards glowed briefly…and then disappeared.

"Well that's done it" he said to him-self.

"Oi Tweaky"; Ron shouted…"try to find out if there is a magical Canadian embassy here in Dublin, if not…find-out if there is an American one, then come help me dress…I'm going out".

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	7. Chapter 7

Be careful what you wish for 7

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

Finally an **authors' lament**: I have a habit of reading over a chapter after I post it and I've come across some glaring (and rather stupid) simple grade school level mistakes. I'd like to blame the teachers union; but more likely I had a comic book hidden in my English textbook and wasn't paying attention. I freely give all of you the permission to stop reading before you become ill and switch-over to all those other HP stories that take on JKR characters as adults.

This chapter is special in the names used within, so please humor me as it is a habit of mine in all the stories I write.

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here"

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Ron looked for the third time at the address on the scrap of parchment in his hand. The one that Tweaky assured him was the location of the combined North American magical consulate. It appeared to be an empty store-front with a huge _**for sale or lease**_ sign in the window. It was located in a quiet upper middle class suburban neighborhood not far from central Dublin. The display windows were clearly dirty and there appeared to be several inches of dirt/dust on the floor. Ron knew he was in the right place when he reached for the door handle and his hand went through it…like a mirage. Without another thought Ron stepped through the still locked door in the exact same way he once gotten onto, '_platform nine and three/quarters_.'

On the other side of the door Ron encountered a bee-hive of activity. There were painters applying paint on freshly plastered walls; a skid-load of _plastic wrapped_ moving boxes, stacked plastic chairs, two wrapped file cabinets and one young and frazzled-looking reddish-brown haired receptionist. Ron quickly moved closer and glanced down at the name plate and saw the name: '**Bonnie Wright'**.

"Good morning, Bonnie. I'm a naturalized Canadian citizen and would like to make an appointment to see the ambassador". Ron said politely.

"The ambassador is very busy right now", She replied. "What with the gate to the Elf world crisis and all".

"When would be the soonest I could see him, this is a matter of some urgency", Ron asked in his most friendly salesman tone.

"Oh I really couldn't say, perhaps in a couple of months?"

"A couple of months?" Ron answered horrified.

"Yes…maybe"

"I'm sorry; but that's totally Unacceptable, is there anyone from the C.S.I.S. (Canadian Security Intelligence Service) that I can talk too?" Ron said reasonably.

"And your name is?"

"My name is Ronald Bilus Weasley; formerly the apprentice of the late, Jonathan Veselkin…we had a shop in the old elf trade settlement located near Vancouver; I'm currently living in semi-refugee status here in Dublin." Ron said reasonably.

Bonnie then picked up her wand and seemed to use it to write something in the air which Ron couldn't see. He concluded it to be some-sort of magical inner-office message system. A moment later came the reply that once again Ron couldn't see.

"Could you have a seat sir, someone will be out to speak to you…shortly," Bonnie said politely.

Ron then walked over to a stack of plastic reception room chairs, pull one down, and found a spot to sit that was far from the painters.

"Sorry about the mess, this embassy was put together in a rush due to the gate moving", Bonnie explained.

"Totally understandable, I just relocated here myself". Ron replied. "Where are you from, if I may ask?"

"Two weeks ago I was home in Stratford; Ontario and now I'm here, living in a cheap hotel."

"Sorry to hear that" Ron replied

"Oh it's not all that bad; I already have an Irish boyfriend"

"What's his name?" Ron asked

"Devon …Devon Murray, I imaging you wouldn't know him, being British born and all", Bonnie said casually.

"You have a good ear, if you can tell I was born in England"

"I'm a university trained translator," Bonnie expounded. "Collecting accents is my hobby. I can turn Russian, Japanese, Cantonese and Mandarin into English, which is utterly useless in this situation…but the diplomatic section was shorthanded and I got drafted into coming over here. I'm happy to do my bit…but it is a-tad frustrating too, as there is zero need for my skill over here with the Elves speaking English and all. What do you do for a living?" Bonnie asked politely as two men in black suits, with matching ties, sunglasses and white shirts; hurried in to the room and stood silently on either side of Ron waiting for their superior to arrive.

"It's ironic really, for I am a bit of a translator myself", Ron replied with an amused chuckle; casually ignoring the two wizards guarding him, "Although; I primarily made my living for the last several years as a sales clerk".

"What Languages do you translate?" She asked

"Just one…Elvish"

"Oh-my god…really?" she exclaimed excitedly.

"Not of much use, as you say…they all speak, English"

"Yeah I guess so", Bonnie replied with genuine sympathy.

"Ron…Ron Weasley?" a man around fifty in another black suit asked with a deep southern-drawl as he entered the room.

"David Stern Crockett? Well-well, this is a surprised. Last I heard you were headed back to good-old Virginia" Ron said sounding pleased to see an old friend from the settlement. "Hey…hold on, you're an American and I wanted to chat with someone from C.S.I.S."

"No can do…you lazy Brit. John Hurt, the local C.S.I.S. section chief was called home for consultations over the uproar surrounding the Elves refusal to meet privately with either wizarding Canada or the magical U.S. over the closure of the North American gate;" David said. As C.I.A. section chief I was asked to cover for John."

"You're C.I.A. I mean; a real spy?"

"Honestly Ron, I always thought you knew, what with the lousy cover-name they gave me. Odd think was the elves never caught on to Davy Crockett".

Not understanding the reference Ron continued, "So that tobacco shop was a front all along?"

"Oh my-yes. When Langley set it up as a spy drop-box for the old; tried-and-true, Intel method… 'Microfilm' they fully expected the shop to be closed with me arrested in under two months. They anticipated the shop to be a losing proposition from the start and were utterly shocked when it turned a huge profit. Cigarettes I couldn't give away, chewing tobacco and cigars moved like molasses, but pipe tobacco, sweet-mother of baby Jesus; Ron, that stuff sold like fried chicken after church on Sunday. The elves couldn't get enough of it. At the end, just before the fire, the elves cleaned me out. I guess they knew their supply was about to be cut off.

"You're a real spy, one of the blokes I was a decoy for and you were just across the lane…right under my bloody-nose," Ron lamented in a whisper; mostly to him-self. "Sweet Merlin on a bike; when will I ever stop being so completely naive?"

"We prefer the term- _**Agent**_…spies is the word we use for agents of the other side (the bad-guys). But don't kick yourself; my friend, you weren't supposed to know and you did help my cover, I guess all those Friday night _best-buddy_ dinners that you arranged with the other sales-clerks from the neighboring shops…convinced the law enforcers that I was only a decoy…just like you", David said. Anyway y'all, I think is grand of you to check-in before setting up shop in the new settlement, but the way the elves have set it up, we in the Intel-community won't be able to use decoys this time."

"Haven't you heard? The settlement opening has been delayed …indefinitely" Ron said without thinking; his mind still obsessed with how he still missed so many obvious things.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?" David shouted; "I just found out ten minutes ago!"

"Well, that's the real reason I'm here", Ron said apologetically. "I've been asked to approach both Canada and the U.S.A. concerning the possibility of reopening the Vancouver gate".

"We humans can't open the gate; Ron, only the elves can do that". David said sounding deflated.

"I know that Crockett," Ron said holding his irritation back with effort. "I'm here as a credentialed negotiator on behalf of the _**Three Royals**_. My directive is to determine if North America is open to the idea of a one thousand year lease covering an expanded trade settlement at the old Vancouver gate site…under similar conditions that Great Britain arranged with China over the island of Hong-Kong".

"A human colony; **inside**…the Woodland realm?" David asked stunned nearly speechless at the audacity of the concept.

"Built and administered by North American wizards", Ron added.

"But their Irish gate?" David asked.

"It has Logistical problems that the Irish are saying might take as long as a decade to sort-out" Ron said. "What the elves have in mind is a competition, Europe versus North America…with the winner getting the lion's share of trade with them. both sides are facing difficulties; the Irish have a one lane road into their gate area and no rail system, the yanks have plenty of roads and railroads…even a freight yard, but the elf side of the gate is a brunt-down ruin".

"They want us to pay for everything?" David asked.

"Yes, but you yanks will own every square inch, no rents paid to corrupt elf governor's who'll muck-things up".

"This sounds too good to be true."

"Oh there's a catch, all right…a big one", Ron said in way of warning, "you North Americans have exactly five years from today…to get this up and running or the monopoly goes to Ireland and the European common market …the E.E.C.".

"Five years is just not long enough"

"David…think!, The elves don't care about human housing, restaurants and grocers. They want human trade goods _**in quantity**_…as soon as possible; as long as you get the warehouses up and operating, the fact that the retail shops are set-up inside tents; won't matter to them at all."

"Yeah …you're right. David said. "We can build the rest at our leisure."

"Spot-on, I'll make a businessman out of you yet?" Ron answered in an amused tone.

"Wait here," David said as he all but ran over to Bonnie. "Can you set up a three way floo-call between the C.I.A. at Langley, Virginia and the C.S.I.S headquarters in Ottawa? I need to speak with both directors."

Ron requested and drank a cuppa or two of - _**Earl Grey-**_ as he watched with some hilarity, as David explained the proposal to his overseas superiors. At some point several more men came rushing into the lobby to join the now heated discussion. Oddly enough Ron's diplomatic credentials and instructions sat untouched in his carrycase. David kept pointing in Ron's direction _now and then_ and that seemed to bring about fresh arguments. Finally, David walked back over to Ron with another man who turned out to be the Canadian Ambassador.

"Hello Mr. Weasley, my name is Warwick… Warwick Davis, I'm your ambassador as well as the 'temporarily' representative for both North American countries interest in this matter. I was at the reception when you interceded and got both sides talking. I informed my superiors how impressed I was in your handling of that awkward situation. I told the Magical Minister of Canada that we needed someone with you gift in dealings with the Woodland realm elves. On behalf of the Canadian magical government I want to thank…"

"…Excuse me for interrupting…sir, but you are forgetting that I'm just a lowly shopkeeper and not a full-time diplomat, so I'm not use to long winded speeches. All I want to know is whether or not the concept of a colony is acceptable to Canada?"

"It's not quite that simple; I'm afraid, there are loads of political complexities surrounding this issue,"

"Then you and the yanks are going to talk this to death, while the Irish build. I had hoped…"

"…You don't understand Mr. Weasley," Davis interrupted. "We need a template. Some idea how to lay-out the settlement that won't offend or drive away the elves…and Crockett here tells me that you're the one to talk to about giving us some definite ideas on how to proceed. David has strongly insisted that proper presentation of goods and environment surrounding it; is vital when selling to the elves and you were instrumental in helping him make his tobacco shop a success".

"Seriously, I didn't do all that much…I just offered a few suggestions", Ron said modestly.

"Nonsense my boy, I've read some of the reports myself", Davis continued. "From what I've been able to gather, your Friday night _best buddy dinner's_ was used by you…as an informal forum to instruct your fellow sales clerks how to improve their own sales by catering more to the Elvish culture".

"Knowing your customers is the key to greater profits", Ron replied with a smile for he was directly quoting his late master Jon.

"And the proper presentation of the product also increases the bottom line", Davis recited. "Yes-yes…but the ultimate key is still; knowing your customer's. We have known for years that the Veselkin part of the settlement did more net-sales than any other section, with your Friday night _best-buddy's_ members doing the best".

"I think you give me too much credit, Mr. Ambassador", Ron said humbly.

"I don't agree", Davis countered. "To be brutally honest with you, no one in either North American government really knows what went on inside the Vancouver settlement and we have paid heavily for our ignorance".

"We still haven't figured-out what went wrong, that made the elves so mad at us…that without any prior warning caused them to shut it down and then abruptly burn it. We certainly don't want to risk _screwing the pooch_ a second time by getting the buildings wrong", Davis said unrelenting. "Truth is; North America became complacent and shortsighted after two centuries of trade, and as a result felt no need to acquire our own experts on Woodland elf culture".

Ron just stood there and listened, for allowing a customer to vent, often lead to a sale. Few people realize that to truly bond with someone involves a-lot more listening than talking.

"We frankly have No idea on what an elf friendly trade settlement should look like; with all of the magical designers we will potentially employ, having never seen the inside of even an small elf town or village. We certainly can't use the neglected surroundings of the rat infested; burned down Vancouver settlement as a model for Canada's first interdimensional colony", Davis explained.

"If you need a template; perhaps I can help you with that." Ron said in a helpful tone while reaching for the first into his carrycase. "My master had a slow wasting syndrome disease and that's what's eventually killed him. Veselkin took over a year to die and his dream of replacing the filthy settlement where he had lived and worked for eighty years…had been the obsession of my master for a-lot longer than just the last year of his life. Although crippled and too weak to work in the shop…he sat in his bed and put loads of his remaining magic into a three dimensional map of his dream settlement…and I have that map with me".

Using Bonnie's reception desk, Ron unrolled a large map. Jon's magical '_**portrait imagine'**_ had had often said how deeply disappointed he had been at not staying alive to finish his city map (his lifelong passion) and how delighted he was that Ron had finished the task for him. Ron as Jon's apprentice, had worked countless hours on it before his master had died…which meant that part of the work (legally) belonged to him. An oddity which allowed Ron to take the map out of the settlement before it was torched. That also meant that it was Ron who was the one to put the spell on the map to make it transform from a flat diagram _'back and forth'_ into a three dimensional one.

"_I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good_" Ron said softly in tribute to his departed brother; Fred, for the phrase was the magical trigger that caused the map to transmute to three dimensional…and as it did, he explained; "This map is proportioned to the exact size of the expanded space I got the elves to agree to."

"What…how?" Ambassador Davis said, sounding stunned.

"Jon always said that a successful settlement had to be five times the size of the one they burned down. So I started by demanding ten times bigger and allowed myself to be talked back down to five times bigger", Ron said in a matter in a matter of fact tone, while David stared at him utterly dumbstruck.

"Just the size that your master Veselkin originally wanted." Davis mumbled while looking closer at the younger man in front of him.

"Yes sir,"

"And this map is complete in every detail?"

"Yes Ambassador…streets, parks, sewers, utilities, fresh water…everything." Ron said with obvious pride. "My master had to have worked on this for decades before I came along and clearly had some of his settlement friend's (he had loads of friend's) architects, plumbers and electricians put their special touches to this map",

"I noticed that the streets are too narrow for vehicles". Davis observed.

"Yes sir; I imagine that your man Crockett, can tell you first-hand… as an eye-witness, how _**offended**_ the elves are with loud noises; especially machinery noises", Ron explained; unaware how many were hanging on his every word, like a prophet of old, "My master envisioned large '_magically created service tunnels'_ underneath the city for the vital delivery of goods and other supplies; via trucks and motorized carts that would otherwise clog the streets above and thus disturb the peace and quiet that all elves crave".

"I heard they are fanatical fans of mediation. And expect to do it anywhere." Davis inquired.

"You've heard the truth, sir. We had a mat in the Veselkin shop if the need for mediation struck one of our customers", Ron answered.

"You've clearly pushed this competition idea on the elves…why," Davis asked.

"I personally like the Irish; they are a generous and friendly people. An old school-chum and dorm-mate; Seamus Finnegan also comes from Ireland. So the Irish themselves aren't the problem for me", Ron said in unshakable seriousness, before mumbling as an aside to himself. "Come to think on it…Neville and I should take some time and look him up"

"Anyway…if you haven't already; read carefully the pamphlet the elves put out on their proposed new settlement here in Ireland. Examine prudently the restrictions on what can and can't be done within the trade area. I can't speak for others; but what the elves are proposing here, is not the kind of life I would want to live".

"So you are clearly on our side in this completion" Davis said with a smile

"I imagine as a naturalized Canadian, I was the wrong shopkeeper to pick for this particular duty; far too biased to be objective", Ron said with an amused chuckle.

"Alright Mr. Weasley," Davis said smiling at the irony. "I can tentatively tell you that North America accepts the creation of a human run colony within the elf dimensional space. I may be overturned by my superiors …but frankly; I rather doubt it. I will consult with both governments and draw-up a preliminary draft of a written treaty; covering the offer you outlined and have it back to you as soon as I can".

"Remember Ambassador; the five year clock is clicking down", Ron said to the Davis as he whispered '_mischief managed_' and watched the parchment shrink down to a flat map."

"Oh no Mr. Weasley, we will need to keep Jonathan Veselkin's dream settlement map; to give our Canadian designers a hint on what the elves would consider proper. You'll get this back, I promise."

"Alright sir, but please don't damage this as I consider it to be a Weasley family heirloom". Ron said while gathering his carrycase to leave.

"We will be in touch" Davis said shaking Ron's hand before the red-head left

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"That man has no idea what he's done…does he?" Warrick said to David, as the door shut behind Ron.

"I think he knows all too well, sir," Crockett replied. "Although he consistently denies it, Ron has always been more than just a mere sales clerk. Consider what he's done all-by himself, just by parlaying his role in the reception incident. He's pulled off what two entire countries with millions of witches and wizards had failed to do…reestablish contact for North America with the Woodland Realm".

David then added; an afterthought. "We have to get Weasley to convince the _**three Royals**_ to open-up the Vancouver gate from the elf side; so our wizarding engineers we can see for ourselves the extent of the fire damage".

"Don't put the cart before the Horse; David…First-thing-first;" Davis said; "I hereby authorized a very discrete 24/7 protection detail for this very special go-between. Keep your distance…for I'm sure the elves have seen his value too. Secondly; I want him back on the C.S.I.S. payroll A.S.A.P.".

"He said he was working for the _**three royals**_, what about… _conflict of interest_?" David pointed out.

"Then we'll bribe him with something he wants…land in the reopened Vancouver settlement; perhaps", Davis suggested.

"Good idea … maybe an entire block, making him a landlord rather than merely a tenant. That will give him more incentive to make our success…his success", David suggested before protesting, "Hey I spoke to him first? The C.I.A. should be the one to make him filthy rich".

"Share the cost of the bribe; pay for the entire block, the construction…everything?" Davis counter-suggested

"Agreed", Crockett retorted.

"Secondly, as all of us know the level of political infighting that goes hand and hand with a project a tenth of the size of this colony. To save loads of time we sell the idea this way. As far as anyone in this room knows, this map was not provided by Veselkin's apprentice as a mere template for what we might build. We only have five years to pull this off so we can't afford to waste two of them fighting over which country gets to bid on designing this and then wait another two for a final design", Davis said sternly to the six in the lobby very sternly…and as he had handpicked his staff; except for Crockett; one by one they nodded their heads in agreement.

"Our shopkeeper friend clearly does not understand the disadvantages of the North American political system and …we really can't afford any squabbling over the lay-out or design of our future colony. So as of; Right now…we will assume that this _**'Layout'**_ comes to us directly from the _**three royal's**_ …not as a suggestion for us to consider; but rather as a requirement for us to implement in the building this colony".

"I'm banking heavily on Veselkin's and Weasley's intimate knowledge of their culture," Davis said. "Weasley understood the elves better than anyone expected at the reception and more importantly; he has somehow earned the trust of their ruling elite. We have _a foot in the door_; people… and history will never forgive us if we waste this golden opportunity. I can tell you without hesitation that both governments feel that no price is too high to pay to regain our trade monopoly with the Woodland elves. The cornerstone of this opportunity rests on the shoulders of our lowly shopkeeper…if anything happens to him…"

"…I can put guards on the outside of his flat ambassador, but what about the inside".

"What are you suggesting, a _**Samson and Delia ploy**__?_"

"Yes sir, it has worked before. A guard **in** his bed would make him…a-lot safer" Crockett said

"Interview anyone in North America from the old settlement who knew him personally. Have a physiologal profile made on him and cross match it with all female-agents of his age or younger. Find us a bedroom match-up, Agent Crockett!"

"Yes sir" Crockett said as the ambassador left the lobby, before saying to himself in a whisper. "You're going to owe for this one; Brit, and owe me big."

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	8. Chapter 8

Be careful what you wish for 8

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; to the point where I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

Category: AU = alternate universe PH = Post Hogwarts; but with the last book's epilog deleted. In other words; it takes place **after** J. K. Rowland's – infamous February 8th 2014 bomb-shell.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

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How had it come to this? He was being fussed over by Ginny and Neville over a minor flesh wound to his left shoulder of a clearly non-lethal nature, preventing him from reading the response to the offer he had made at the joint North American embassy in Dublin a fortnight ago.

"Leave off Gin-gin, it's only a scratch. I need to read this…**now**."

"You belong in hospital", she countered.

"Utter rubbish…I'm not going anywhere" Ron snarled as he scanned the entire first page… frowning more and more at what he saw. "Neville can you tell your girlfriend how you suffered horrible wounds under the Carrow's during the war?" Ron casually mentioned desperately hoping that this statement would get his sister to switch her focus.

"Oh no you don't…Ron", retorted Neville as Ginny abruptly turned about and was about to roar hotly at the boyfriend …but at the last second, he distracted her. "I took my lumps…yes, but a-lot of other people did too. However; the Carrow's at their worst…never tried to openly assassinate me during dinner with an elf; _throwing knife_" This true statement made Ginny instantly switch back to fussing and complaining over Ron.

"Oi, don't be silly…they weren't trying to kill me", Ron spat back still feeling the throbbing pain from his wound. "To an Amazon elf; knife throwing is considered part of the warrior's art; her ruddy stock and trade…it's like handing them a bow and arrow, believe me; they never miss. So that means; whoever did this; if they really wanted to kill me, I'd be dead right-now...okay? **NO**, I think it is more likely that the attack on me, was in actuality a less then subtle warning by those opposed to trade… telling me to stop, or die".

"Ronniekins…what have you gotten yourself into…this time?" Ginny asked sounding irritated.

"It's a –tad complicated", Ron replied sheepishly.

"Complicated…like misplacing your flat keys or as in finding the bits to Tom Riddle's soul?" Ginny asked in a snarl",

"At least I'm not the side-kick on some fairytale adventure', Ron bemoaned, "I'm not holding the cloaks of the reluctant hero or his annoyingly brilliant girlfriend…while they get the credit for doing **all** the heroic stuff. Don't you understand; Ginny? I was getting used to getting-by on my own back in Canada. After years of Jon's version of tough-love therapy… I had reached the point of making my own decisions without anyone-else's help. Bloody hell; we don't need heroes to tell us what to do…normal people make such decisions all the time. Truth is…I put myself into the middle of this mess deliberately…out of a deeply seated desire to go home".

"Home...what are you carrying-on about? You could move back to the _**Burrow **_tomorrow? Ginny asked sounding mystified

"Not England; I mean, Canada."

"The shop in the settlement is gone; Ron", Neville said sadly. "The elves burned it down."

"But it can rise again like _**Fawkes**_ the phoenix did…again and again".

"How?..." Neville asked sounding puzzled.

"…By arranging for an unpretentious shopkeeper to act as the go-between for the Woodland Realm and the North Americans".

"You unpretentious…don't make me laugh?" Ginny said chuckling.

"Okay…okay, would you believe they couldn't find anyone better…or dumber?"

"Dumber I can believe" Ginny sneered in a clearly joking fashion.

"Gee-whiz…thanks loads" Ron said joking back. "Anyroad; after what happen at the Irish reception, some high and mighty toff Elves…and I can't say who. Decided that I was just the bloke they needed; to float the idea of reopening the settlement to the yanks.

"And the yanks liked the idea?" Neville asked.

"I assume they did, I was just trying to look over the rough draft of the yank's reply…the one Crockett delivered at the Pub where we were going to have dinner at with Seamus…do either of you remember our original plans?" Ron asked. "Then I go and ruin it all; when I got knifed in the shoulder…by the way, did he ever show up?"

"Do you mean, Finnegan; our favorite Irish-rat, regretfully he was a no show. If this is a top drawer secret treaty…then let me read it to you", Ginny said excitedly and before Ron could tell her no…she snatched-up the black leather folder out of her brothers hands; turned it about on the dining room table, where all three of them sat at that moment… and tried to read it"

"What's this then?" Ginny snarled. "This isn't English?"

"I fancy; that it was intended to be elvish", Ron said looking-hard at the document upside down. "But this mess is utterly non-sensible and without-doubt…the worse translation from English I've ever seen".

(_**Just then…**_) 88888

"_Master_?", said a tiny house-elf which had suddenly appeared at Ron's elbow.

"Yes Tweaky" Ron replied politely.

"_There are five people, at the door_." She said

"Wizards or elves?"

"_Wizards…master_." She replied

"Do you sense them to be a threat?"

"_No Master, one of them is known to me from the settlement; master Crockett. He is with a girl and three other wizards, who are all dressed alike_". Tweaky answered calmly.

"C.I.A. or N.S.A.?" Neville wondered aloud.

"Perhaps both", Ron replied. "You can let them in now, Tweaky."

"Ron…dammit…do have any idea how much trouble you have caused me?" David said as he burst into the flat with his entourage hot on his heels…until he moved to stand directly in front of Ron, "The sheer volume of the paperwork, the hazel with the Irish law enforcement people and all to cover-up your; - '_little-incident'_ -at the Pub".

"Believe it or not; David, I didn't go out to dinner tonight with the sole intention of allowing myself to be knifed…just for the joy obtained by ruining your evening', Ron countered feeling exasperated. "Have you definitely-determined that it wasn't a wizard that threw the knife at me?"

"It was an elf made knife" Crockett answered.

"Seriously…David",

"I'm an intelligence Agent and not a Detective. Alright-alright; no one is sure…sure", David said suddenly uneasy. "But the embassy has every reason to believe…"

"…that the sun will come up tomorrow, other than that; you don't actually know **squat**…do you?" Ron asked; winching slightly as he felt a twinge of pain.

"No fingerprints on the weapon"

"The attack was done in a crowded Muggle restaurant right under the nose of the agents you had shadowing me. The magical Irish know by-now about the negotiations, but I can't see how it would help their gate project by stimulating an Elf attack on me. No human threw that knife, I'm certain of it now – it was an elf and the only question remaining is which of the many elf political factions was behind that warning. But you'll never prove that any elf did it; because the Woodland Elves like their cousins the house-elves …have no fingerprints." Ron explained.

"I didn't know any of that", the young woman with Crockett said sounding surprised. "Why didn't anyone tell me that?"

"You have never seen any kind of Elf, up-close…have you?" Ron said looking beyond an outraged David toward the girl who had come in with him, but who had also hung back behind Crockett's security detail in the safety of the lounge.

"Ron you have much to answer for. The Canadian ambassador wants you to come in where we can protect you better", David said expecting to be obeyed.

"David, calm yourself…I don't work for you or the Ambassador in this matter", Ron said, "As you may recall; both North American governments fired me; when the settlement burned down. I currently represent as a private citizen, certain parties from within the Realm; that want to reopen the Vancouver gate. Earning my retainer, involves me being the go-between for the two sides, both of which wants this colony to happen. However and speaking for myself and in my recent experiences with the magical governments; of both Ireland and the United Kingdom. I have determined that bureaucratic flunkies are the ones who build the best roadblocks to prevent getting anything done. Some clown in a cubicle somewhere will **undo** with this _diplomatic piece of dragon-dung_, any chance you North Americans have of getting any elf understanding to your answer to their original proposal".

"Not everyone in Government is incompetent and you know it. Now, what's all this about dragon dung?" Crockett asked defensively.

"It's your translation; David, that's the only _Dragon dung_ in my flat. Believe me when I say that I cannot make any sense of any of this mess", Ron said. "I couldn't get through the first two paragraphs without nearly choking. Whoever you got to attempt to translate this diplomatic pile of crap, knows less about the Elves than I do about being an average Japanese fisherman".

"What did I get wrong?" the still unidentified girl asked horrified.

"You did this?" Ron asked.

"Yes…but…but"

"How were you trained …and by whom…whoever you are?" Ron demanded to know.

"I'm an expert linguist, if you must know; with two P.H.D.'s in ancient and obscured languages. And who the hell are you?"

"You're a Muggle?" Ron stated as fact, genuinely surprised.

"I'm what you Brits call a squib. My sister and father are both magical",

"May I ask your name…especially as David has so rudely failed to introduce you", Ron said oozing charm from every pour.

"Who is this guy; David?" She snarled the question again.

"I'm just the go-between during these negotiations", Ron replied when David remained silent, "Although I have offered a few laymen's suggestions to both sides, I'm equally uncertain what effect…if any…my input have had. But enough about me; as you claim several doctorate's in elvish, and are clearly responsibility for this garbage; then the Canadian government clearly has no further use for my services",

"As she is your unchallengeable expert; David I will pass on your government's reply to the elves proposal 'unaltered'…and let the chips fall where it may", Ron said these things directly to Agent Crocket; before giving his full attention toward this attractive; dark-brown haired American. "My name is…by the way; Ronald B. Weasley although my friends call me Ron".

"I'm…I'm… I'm", she suttered.

"Also sitting with me at the dining room table is my _very best-mate_ and exceptionally skilled botanist; Neville Longbottom…next to him sits his girlfriend; my younger sister; Ginerva…although if you want to live to your next birthday; you'll never call her that", Ron said softly rambling…something he hadn't done for years, this most unusual behavior was due to who knows what…but perhaps it was his close proximity to the 'well-built' American before him.

"My sweet sister is actually the most famous among the three of us; for she is by trade…is a professional Quidditch player for the _**Holyhead Harpies**_; But as an American I doubt you've heard of her; her name is, Ginny Weasley",

"You're- '_**gung ho'…**_Weasley? The American girl said excitedly rushing forward to shake Ginny's hand, "It is a great honor to meet you; Ms. Weasley…and I mean that sincerely. I saw your exhibition match against the **'**_**Ottawa Otters'**_ two years back and you scored more than any other chaser on either team combined. You won MVP that year too; it was the best match I EVER saw! I'm one of your biggest fans. My name is Byrne, by the way… Scarlett Hannah Byrne", the brown haired squib said now totally ignoring everyone else in the room. David wasn't happy about this development, for the introduction had not gone as he had planned…however Ron was deeply amused by David's befuddlement.

"Nice to meet you too; Dr. Byrne", Ron said politely and chuckled to himself yet a second time when his greeting was again ignored by the two fanatic Quidditch enthusiasts; who sat at his dining room table, chatting as old girl-friends do about their favorite matches.

"David; When did you acquire the super-frantic Quidditch fan…and piss-poor linguist?", Ron asked finally when it apparent to him that the two women were too wrapped-up in their Quidditch chat to acknowledge the men in the room.

"Ottawa sent her over few days ago. Apparently C.S.I.S. for some years now has had several linguists trying to crack the written version of the elvish language. Dr. Scarlett Byrne; I'm reliably told; is considered Canada's youngest rising star in in the area of Elvish translators. But forget about her…what did you say? That the translation I gave you is crap?"

"I said …oh never-mind, I'll pass it on and we'll see…won't we."

"Don't do this to me Ron, don't prank a fellow shopkeeper", David pleaded; sounding worried

"No prank intended, I was speaking the truth. The translation may-be word for word correct in some-places, but to any elf trying to read the entire document; they will instantly discover it to be a long winded, confusing, disjointed and self-contradicting…mess. Nor can I say that this outcome is for me totally…unexpected. I have more than half-expected that some bureaucratic flunky would somehow muck-up Jon's brilliant idea of the colony.

"I am not a flunky and your go-between is clearly lying; I stand behind my brilliant translation" Dr. Byrne said angrily in an aside to David.

"So your _know-it-all_ is right and I am wrong…well-well; isn't that familiar territory", Ron snarled. "No more arguments from me over this issue. I give you my word of honor, Agent Crockett; that this unaltered document…given to me tonight at dinner; will be in the Elves hands by tomorrow mid-morning at the latest".

"Ron…please; don't be this way", David pleaded.

"Thanks again for untangling the Pub mess and running interference with the Irish magical police. But if you will all now excuse me, I'm rather tried and more than a-little…in pain", Ron said wearily. "I'm sure that Neville can see you and your friends out, whenever my sister and your expert get tired of talking Quidditch. Right now I'm going to take a pain potion and then call it an early night".

"But what about the official answer to the proposal?" David asked; sounding very worried indeed.

"First thing tomorrow when I'm feeling better, I'll look it over this rubbish in more detail. I'll even take a few notes and when it's rejected by the elves …as I promise it will be. Then…I'll floo you to come over, and for the price of _three_ bottles of rare and expensive wine; at a minimum price of say…one-hundred galleons each. I'll let you know (privately) where you yanks went wrong; okay?" Ron said sounding very drained.

"I insist that there is nothing wrong with my translation", Dr. Scarlett snarled in Ron's direction, having become angry enough at this point to interrupt in mid-sentence her highly enjoyable Quidditch chat with Ginny.

"Whatever you say; Dr. Byrne, I'm in no mood to argue with yet another arrogant academic", Ron replied unenthusiastically over his shoulder as he walked away.

"What degrees do you have…don't bother answering…I know already, you have none", Dr. Byrne shouted at Ron's back. "What could a barely educated- _**sales clerk**_ -possibly know about the Great Woodland Elves…nothing I say?"

"You gave her Ron's C.I.A. file to read, didn't you?" Neville snarled accusatorily at David

"Well. Well; she asked…and I…I": David replied in an embarrassing stutter.

"It's alright Agent Crockett", Neville responded as he heard Ron's bedroom door close. "I fully understand why resistance '_for you'_ was in this particular case a futile gesture; Ron told me casually, that you have a weakness for Dr. Byrne's physical type. She has a beautiful face and voluptuous hour-glass figure…rather large child-bearing hips and pear-shaped, rounded bum".

"Speaking for myself; I fully understand blokes having a particular type of bird they fancy. Personally; I'm mental for hot-tempered red-heads; but even I can acknowledge that Dr. Byrne is the type of walking-and-talking centerfold; that blokes like you tend to fancy. Especially when she combines a great figure with long and soft dark-brown hair…topped-off with two firm and overly large… _**P.H.D.'s"**_.

"Even in my limited experience with women", Neville admitted freely. "I know there's nothing better in the world to turn a bloke into a pile of warm-goo…than a drop-dead gorgeous; big-busted, girl".

"You are clearly smitten Agent Crockett" Ginny added knowingly.

"I am not", David answered as both Crockett and Byrne blushed hard.

88888 –

The following day the unaltered answer to the original proposal had been delivered to the elves

It was only Seventy-two hours later that the elves replied to the North Americans. And this took place when three Amazons in full armor appeared unexpectedly inside the lobby of the North American joint Embassy; bypassing with ease, the elaborate security wards that the embassy used to safeguard its personnel. They roughly dropped a scroll of parchment on a very startled Bonnie's desk …containing in the same childishly simplistic wording that they then recited verbally to avoid any misunderstanding. With raw bluntness; the elves stated in the most- _simplistic of terms_ -that even a Hogwarts firstie would understand… '_That no diplomatic document they had ever received…had been more insulting'_. There was no other explanation given before the three Amazon's left, beyond a command that the humans either; '_make all their responses in standardized English or take advantage of one of the '__**nine**__' Licensed by the __**three Royals**__ to communicate in elvish'_.

Within two hours of receiving this unorthodox reply; David Crockett, a fully accredited C.I.A. Agent was desperately pounding on Ron's door with a franticly embarrassed; Dr. Byrne, standing right next to him.

888888

End transmission

888888…for now


	9. Chapter 9

Be careful what you wish for 9

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; to the point where I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

Category: AU = alternate universe PH = Post Hogwarts; but with the last book's epilog deleted.

In other words; it takes place **after** J. K. Rowland's – infamous February 8th 2014 bomb-shell.

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"Hold-on …hold on", Neville said to the loudly pounding front door. It was seven in the morning on the day that his beloved Ginny was to go back to training camp via an eleven-fifteen commercial pork-key out of Dublin. A pork-key was required mainly because such long distances; such as from Scotland to London (for Hogwarts students and their families) was a distance way too far for the _floo network_ or _appariation_ to handle in a single jump.

David Crockett and his exasperating companion brushed by Neville and into the lounge without so-much as a _good-morning_.

"Where is Ron?" David asked nearly shouting.

"Inside voices; please. I wanted Ginny to have a-bit of a lie-in this morning. She has to…"

"…I said where is Ron, bring him to me at once", David shouted growing even louder.

"I asked nicely for you to keep it down" Neville snarled becoming very angry…very fast.

"Ron …Ron, get out here" David said now nearly screaming.

"Dammit, I warned you", Neville said as he pointed his wand. "_**Petrificus Totalus**_" he shouted while blasting David, causing him to freeze in mid step. Naturally Dr. Byrne screamed in a combination of surprise and outrage. She then instinctively pulled a muggle _Taser_ from her jacket pocket and shot Neville square in the chest. Longbottom's body fell to the floor with a thud and then shook-violently for a few minutes, like in the grip of a strong epileptic fit.

"Take that you coward", Dr. Byrne said smugly as Neville suffered.

"Leave my boyfriend alone…you bitch", Ginny snarled hotly as she hexed the squib. The half-muggle flew across the lounge to the outside wall near the outer door …she then hit the wall **hard** with a loud thump…before dropping to the floor like a sack of potatoes; instantly becoming unconscious. Neville would have really appreciated the sight of his strong willed lady-love in the new baby-doll style; _**totally**_ _**sheer**_ nightie, he had just bought her…if he wasn't on the floor face up, lying on his back and drooling profusely, his body still twisting from the two electrical wire-leads stuck into his bare chest.

"What in bloody-hell is going on here?" Ron demanded to know from the hallway to his bedroom.

"That Byrne bitch did something muggle-nasty to my Neville and I made her pay for it", Ginny snarled happily with her wand still pointed at the knocked-out squib.

"Lower your wand and put some clothing on…while I sort-out this mess", Ron said; shaking his head sadly while taking in the sight in front of him. "Besides; I seriously doubt that your Neville would approve of another bloke seeing the way you are dressed right-now", Strangely enough; his mostly naked sister after a second to think it over; abruptly turned about and scooted back down the hall toward the bedroom (in bare feet) that she shared with Neville.

Ron was actually pleased with her sister's relationship, knowing from bitter experience while growing up at the _**Burrow**_, how difficult it was to live '_peacefully_' with Ginny. That Neville was still with her after almost five months spoke volumes about both of them. Now to deal with David and the squib…and to do that with a slight wave of his hand, Ron magically unfroze Crockett.

"What…happened", David asked in a daze as he looked around. "What did you do to my…I mean; the good doctor?"

"You got hexed by Neville for disturbing the peace, old-boy; while your squib got cursed by my sister for being an evil bitch", Ron said not at all happily. "Now before I throw you both out on your ears, I will give you exactly one minute to explain why you have ruined the _peace and quiet_ of my home this morning?"

"No one hexes me", David snarled while drawing his wand and pointing it at the still recovering Neville."

"Wrong answer", Ron said sternly and by slightly waving one hand Ron instantly elevated David by the collar off the floor until his feet dangled in the air."

"This is impossible; everyone knows that a wand is required to perform all magic", Dr. Byrne said while sitting up in a state of stunned amazement. Next instant; she reached to pull-out a second Taser, but Ron saw that…and a moment later she too; was dangling helpless in the air.

"Clearly, you know as little about Magic as you do about Elvish", Ron said drolly to Dr. Byrne.

"Ron…how are you doing this?" David asked.

"Did you really imagine that my mentor would limit my knowledge of the Woodland Realm to just the Language and traditions. The only way to fully understand the elves; Jon would say to me, was to become one…in every way", Ron said proudly.

"You learned their magic?"

"Not all that much, certainly; but a-little here and there", Ron admitted honestly as he regained his composure while Neville slowly sat up and then violently shook his head clear it…He then glanced down and pulled the two _**Taser**_ wire-leads out of his chest one at a time. "You alright?" He asked Neville, who; after a moment of contemplation, nodded his head slowly…yes.

"Go reassure my sister that you are still among the living, while I have a-word with our unwelcomed guests". Ron said as Neville got off the floor and left the room.

"Now before I let you both down, a few ground rules." Ron snarled. "Right from the off; say anything I find offensive or make another wrong move, and believe me…I shall not be as gentle with you as Neville and my sister were…understood?" And then he waited for a moment, before David and Scarlett nodded in agreement.

"Good, secondly; I assume that as I predicted, the Elves were not pleased with _two-perky P.H.D's_ reply to Jon's inventive proposal…yes?" Again there were two nods in the affirmative.

"Did you bring me the wine you owe me or the original reply (in English) for me to properly translate?" Ron asked as he gently lowered his two prisoners to the floor.

"In all the excitement I forgot the wine…sorry; but I'm instructed to tell you that…" David began softly and then changed his mind having seen the look of barely controlled rage on Ron's face. Telling himself to buy some really expensive wine to make amends; David then reached into his suit coat and pulled out a thick, legal sized envelope.

"The elves greatly value domestic tranquility and you have ruined mine for this morning". Ron said in an angry tone; "for manners sake I forgive it. Now give me the envelope and leave. I will edit-out the diplomatic rubbish in the reply as I see fit…and then pass it on."

"The ambassador doesn't want it edited, the wordage was chosen very carefully…", David protested softly which earned him another scowl from a still upset Ron; so he abruptly changed subjects. "Secondly; Davis wanted me to pass on to you that old Jon's dream city has been a huge hit with anyone we showed it too. Both governments have interviewed anyone we could get our hands on that use to live in the old settlement…and each and every one of them went nuts over the design…also; they truly believe it was presented to us Americans by the _**three royals**_…as a blueprint for our colony".

"Everyone thinks we have been dazzling in our in-depth knowledge of what would best please the elves. You have no idea how many politicians in both governments are trying to take credit for Jon's dream", David explained sounding a-bit amused. "By-the-way: Ron if you're asked about it by anyone; the official story is that the map came from the elves and not some dead shopkeeper…Got it?"

"They are really going to implement Jon's dream?" Ron asked while glancing up at Veselkin's magical portrait and smiling fondly at the magical animated image of his master utterly dumbfounded expression of joy.

"Yeah-yeah, but do you understand…it was the elves idea: OKAY, they wanted it this way", David pressed hard to a stunned and unresponsive Ron before continuing. "Surprisingly; our designers took it a part and found little wrong with it. They changed it a-bit naturally, because that's what bureaucrats do…but only tweaking the underground parts, they expanded the service tunnels and messed with the raw sewage and power lines. I can't emphasize enough that nothing was changed above ground… they considered it perfection".

With a final glance at his gob smacked master and without another word a smiling Ron waved his hand again and duplicated the envelope that David had shoved into his hands.

"Very well then; you've openly plagiarized Jon' life work, with your politicians all claiming the credit…well-well; nothing new there. And now you've rejected my services as a translator…and to add insult to injury, you've forgotten my wine", Ron bemoaned.

"The embassy will get you an entire case of expensive wine, first-rate quality…I promise, if you keep the wording as is", David pleaded.

"How about this for a compromise", Ron said thoughtfully. "I'll do a side-by side translation Elvish to English, keeping the wording fully intact, thus providing the Canadian linguist's something to study back in Ottawa. But that case of wine had better be dam-good…eh?"

"Ron I want to apologize for barging in here…"

"…Safe-it; David, I've tried my best to teach you; but apparently some lessons didn't take. You are clearly far more clueless in the application of appropriate elf manners than I first assumed. Self-control and proper-manners are two of the bare-minimum requirements for any kind of success with the elves. I no longer honestly believe that you have the proper temperament for dealing on any level with the elves", Ron announced in an ice-cold monotone. "Perhaps it will be better for all concern if that polite embassy receptionist; Ms. Wright takes on your role as concierge/gofer for this operation".

"You have no right to dictate who represents North America", David snarled hotly; feeling justifiably insulted. "And stop acting as if you're a self-righteous Elf. You're as human as I am."

"Will you never learn? You're colossal ignorance concerning the duties and responsibilities of a guest among the elves … the disrespect that you two have exhibited here _so vividly_ this morning, if repeated in the presence of an official elf diplomatic delegation from the Woodland Realm, could have easily ruined for a thousand years, any chance of reopening the Vancouver gate".

"I know when and where to be diplomatic", David answered angrily".

"I very strongly disagree. How many times have I said; you simply cannot turn on and then off, elvish customs and traditions like a Muggle light switch. There is far too much at a stake here to risk that." Ron countered still a-tad angry. "Look at it this way…I don't tell you how to be an Agent; now…do I? I'm not an expert on a larger number of varied subjects, either; I'm just an average bloke with one…very narrow skill-set; okay? And on that note; I think it is time for both of you to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere," Dr. Byrne said stubbornly. In reply Ron turned her head slowly in her direction and arched an eyebrow of unexpected interest.

"You don't frighten me," Scarlett replied sounding uneasy. "I've been given two very different lessons in humility at your hands. I know my Muggle _**Taser**_ trick won't work a second time anywhere around you, and you might even know how to counteract my pocket _**mace.**_ I honestly believe however, that it is a good thing …every so often; for a swelled head like mine, to be deflated with the reminder that I don't know everything. Somehow; I suspect that you feel the same way about yourself?"

"You could say that" Ron admitted with a thin smile. "I went to school with a girl like you; she too thought that she could never be wrong about anything…while at the same time giving me constant reminders as I grew-older, that I wasn't the sharpest knife in the tray. Contrary to the enlighten option of a pair of high and mighty Toffs, I'm not a dimwitted clod either. Actually, _all said and done_; I consider myself of barely average intelligence. However; you do have this in your favor, something that she wasn't capable of".

"And what was that?"

"Admitting that you were wrong, that was something I can't recall my other _know-it-all_ ever doing".

"Then you think I'm redeemable?"

"That depends on whether or not this act of self-effacement is just a one-time thing", Ron pointed out honestly. "Being _full of your-self_ can be a full-time job and I have years of experience of seeing it in action, to back that-up that judgment".

"The Canadian embassy has officially ordered you…I mean; has requested, that you teach Dr. Byrne, everything you know about the Woodland Realm", David interjected with obvious hesitation.

"Crockett; are you still here?" Ron snarled the question, while his visual focus remained on the surprisingly brave and very attractive; Dr. Byrne. "Good thing, actually…I want you to tell the ambassador for me; '_thank-you'-_ for implementing the map that I gave him; so fully. I'll take the origins of that map to my grave so there is no worries there…and don't worry about the elves reaction; for I know for a fact (from Jon) that a good-number of them put their two Knuts worth into it as well. Now on to other matters; Davis cannot order me, as the elves only representative; to teach anyone …anything. No-one forces a master to take on a particular apprentice. There are many deciding factors in that decision, such as level of subject emersion, a multi-year commitment…combined with a deep desire to learn…"

"…I already have that in abundance" Scarlett interrupted.

"An apprenticeship like mine was not like casually attending a Muggle university to get a doctorate or two. To learn as much as I have in the short a timeframe that I did, means a-lot of sacrifices…hard sacrifices. I became the literal slave to what I was learning. I slept, ate and breathed the elvish language and its sub-tongues. I lived every day the traditions of the Elves. I had to endure a level of obedience that I could never ask of another human being".

"May I ask; why…why, you did this to yourself?" Byrne asked justly curious.

"Honestly; I did it to retain…my personal sanity. Due to war related P.T.S.D. issues; I was a semi-suicidal when Jon chose me to be his apprentice and thankfully that old man worked me to the point of exhaustion almost every single day for years", Ron said smiling at the memory. "What Jon gave me was just the tough-love therapy I desperately needed. To tell the truth, I still think I'm touched…borderline mental, whereas my sister thinks I'm a total nutter. But ... I guess; with her; that last bit applies to all male Weasley's."

"Is there a point to your illiterate rambling", Scarlett snarled sounding annoyed

"Thank-you for reverting back to type; Doctor", Ron said making up his mind. "I'd imagine that working with a demented-wizard like me, would be a very frustrating thing for the ordered mind of a dedicated academic like your-self?" Ron pointed-out with an ironic chuckle.

"You mean a crazy, undereducated wizard and coward from an all but forgotten backwater civil-war?" Scarlett answered back with obvious contempt. "I read and reread all the C.I.A. and the C.S.I.S files on you. I know all-about- **how little** -you did during the Voldemort civil-war. I read a top-secret report of your cowardly desertion of the two heroes at their time of critical need. I'm aware that Minister Shacklebolt cleverly took his revenge on you…something that the two genuine heroes wouldn't do. I know he tricked you and the Longbottom…another coward I suppose; into migrating to Canada after the war…where he then wisely abandoned you both to your fate."

"Don't believe everything you read; Dr. Byrne", Ron calmly retorted, stunned nearly speechless at how wrong, so many people were about the war. "Everyone has an agenda; the _British Ministry of Magic Historians_ certainly did…clearly. As does our own allegedly unbiased; C.S.I.S. in the deeply flawed profile they wrote about me. Hells-bells, girl; even I have an agenda in all of this. Let's just say that after all you've done and said here today; I have come to the inescapable conclusion that working with you long-term…for me at least; is clearly un-doable. And if you're asked to provide a logical reason in a report of this conversation; concerning my now irrevocable decision, you can put down, _major personality conflicts. _You-see; I've been the whipping boy of a know-it-all before and it didn't end well", Ron said with a soft snarl. "I simply refuse be constantly contradicted by someone as smug and self-assured as the most brilliant rising star in Canadian Linguistics."

"In my own defense, I had no idea how much I didn't know".

"But you're only saying that now; because you got burned so badly. Worst-yet, you want me to believe that out of the clear-blue sky you've suddenly- _seen the light_ -concerning the advantages of self-effacing humility? Ron said in clear disbelief. "Now; you're suddenly willing to do…what exactly?"

"Anything you wish, if you'll teach me all that you know about the Woodland Realm."

"Anything?" Ron answered skeptically

"Within reason…of course",

"Ah, that's what I thought, your level of commitment is …lacking", Ron said scornfully

"Lacking?"

"Yes… as in; falls short, insufficient and inadequate", Ron explained sourly.

"What do you want? What level of commitment is required?"

"Why can't people like you accept a No, answer?" Ron said harshly. "But in all fairness, I'll humor you and tell you that the only commitment I'll accept from any apprentice is; **total**".

"What does that mean…exactly?"

"The kind of commitment that is a thousand times deeper; than the strongest marriage on earth. For me to teach you everything I know and will learn; would literally take a life-time." Ron explained.

"A life-time?" Scarlett replied utterly stunned.

"Yes, even to teach you what I learned and experienced in the past seven years would take a shortly less amount of time", Ron said with total sincerity, "And I lived almost every single day of it under Veselkin's tutelage. But I guess that's the reason that I turned out to be; one of only **nine** licensed Translators."

"And what If I was willing to do all that too?" she asked defiantly

"Do what; doctor?" Ron asked.

"Spend a life time with you"

"You can't be serious, because I can't imagine someone like you, obeying me in all things big and small without constantly challenging my authority. Learning elvish humility and self-discipline the hard way as I did; meant serving my masters every whim without hesitation?" Ron said testing her.

"Yes, I understand all that", she replied after a few moments thought.

"You're either pulling my leg or a liar". Ron said sounding genuinely amused.

"I am not." Scarlett pouted softly. "I'm obsessed with the woodland Elves, and have been all my life. My daddy worked in the elf linguistic lab before me and he'd come home and told me tons of stories about them. During the last few days I painfully discovered that everything we thought we knew about them…was totally wrong. I also learned as you said; _the hard way_ that I need a proper teacher, like your master Veselkin and that teacher has to be you. You alone have the kind of knowledge I crave. So name your price, I'll do anything to learn what you can to teach me."

"Get this straight; Byrne…I'm not going to be your teacher, because someone as brilliant as you could never lower yourself to be taught by some dimwitted sales-clerk. You wouldn't last as my apprentice for week…you're too headstrong. But thankfully, I'm not your only choice. There are eight other licensed translators…try one of them", Ron countered reasonably.

"We tried that route already, believe me, you weren't my first choice for this; either. We wanted someone with more than a high-school education", David said bitterly, interjecting himself into the conversation reluctantly. "Two of the other translators are one hundred and sixty years old and in extremely frail health. The other four we contacted are over the age of one-hundred thirty and they inherited the title of- _**translator**_ -from their parents without going through any kind of training at all. Actually; they understand less about Elvish, than I do".

"I didn't know that", Ron said in a suddenly very worried tone.

"Name your price master Weasley", Scarlett repeated in soft and husky voice combined with a surprisingly seductive tone.

"And what if part of my price was **sexual**" Ron said calling her bluff; while secretly going into an emotional state of near panic… his voice showing no outward signs of his inner turmoil; as he hadn't realized until that very moment that he was the ONLY living human-being that could read, write and speak proper Elvish…and by acknowledging that fact; Ron suddenly realized that he was being set-up as the target of a classic- _femme fatale_ -C.I.A. trap.

Ron vividly remembered the Samson/Delilah strategy from his limited spy-craft training; precisely because he had been cruelly used in class as an example of a typical sucker. Instantly he was on his guard while watching Scarlett's face closely; for he had to figure out how culpable Byrne was in this seductive gambit. Naturally her face drained of color, which was in-itself a good sign, for it meant she might be just a puppet rather than the puppet-master. Had she cranked-up the sexiness; Ron would have pegged her to be a full flung- _trampish_ -agent. However; Ron was by now, way-beyond desperate, the warning bells were ringing overly loud between his ears…a tiny voice in the back of his head was screaming; '_get away from this woman_'.

She was too eager, her level of education was bothersome; but he was alright with smart women, However; this extra-brilliant woman's raw-enthusiasm to be around him; to live with him, even more intimately than Ron had with his own master was…extremely **unsettling**. He was sure by now that the 'Agency' had put her up to this- _apprentice idea_ -and that meant he had to find a coherent reason for her to turn him down on her own accord…to fail the ultimate test of resolve. But even as he thought of this rationalization, Ron knew that he needed to pile-it on deeper.

"What if I required children of you, to bring up in the languages and traditions of the elves? There are only nine licensed translators by the _**three Royals**_. I am Jon's chosen successor but who replaces me? The license is hereditary by elvan custom. So one of my offspring's; a son or more likely a daughter, could one day replace me as one of the **nine**", Ron said pressing even harder and was rewarded for his efforts, when he saw growing uncertainty in her eyes. As in chess, he was employing a bold gambit to frighten her, stimulate reflection and recalculation as well as most importantly of all; the second guessing of her resolve.

"I don't know about doing all that" she said in a deeply unsteady voice.

"_Got-ya_", Ron thought to himself while trying not to smile. "_She good and scared of me now, must think me a huge pervert that's looking for kinky sex. Well that's done-it, good and proper. Dr. Scarlett Byrnes will have a restraining-order against me issued before nightfall. A good thing too; for there is no chance in bloody hell that I'll allow myself to become entangled with yet another uncompromising know-it-all. Oh my-yes…missed the hex by an inch that time_",

Actually; Ron felt very pleased with him-self as he gently guided a clearly disappointed Agent Crockett and a white faced and slightly trembling in fear; Dr. Byrne out-of his front door and locked it behind them. He leaned his back against the door for a few minutes and then finally …softly sighed in relief. The peace and quiet of his _home away from home_ had been restored and he was free to spend the rest of the day working on the North Americans reply. Whether Dr. Byrne got another elvish translator to teach her or not, didn't matter to him at all. First impressions generally mean a-lot. Scarlett was to close a copy of Hermione's attitude for Ron's comfort.

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"What was that all about?" Neville asked from the entrance to the hall; that directly lead to the bedroom, which he shared with Ginny, who was now fully dressed and standing right next to her boyfriend and frowning hard.

"Crockett was dropping off…" Ron began, only to be interrupted.

"…That's not what I meant and you know it" Neville snarled while Ginny looked even fiercer. "I'm talking about the sex requirement bullocks"

"You heard all that…how?

"Old set of Weasley extendable ears, of course." Ginny said smugly.

"Alright then…explain yourself", Neville said in an angry tone.

"I didn't want Dr. Byrne as an apprentice, plain and simple", Ron answered nervously.

"You could have just told her that". Ginny said exasperated.

"If you truly heard; then you know I tried straightforward and honest. Besides; in my experience with know-it-all's", Ron explained sourly. "I can tell you; that they don't take to being told; **No**, very well".

"Ronniekins you can't keep doing this. You can't keep becoming defensive every time you run into a girl with a brain," Ginny snarled.

"I was not at all intimidated with Dr. Byrne's two P.H.D.'s" Ron countered.

"Well of courses not, even I could see; that although they were well shaped, they were way too big to be considered perky". Neville replied absentmindedly as a joked…which earned him an instant elbow in the ribs from Ginny.

"Big breast humor aside," Ginny sneered. "You scared that woman away and you should be ashamed of yourself".

"Well Gin-gin, I do feel a little bad about-it, as it was indeed; a dirty trick." Ron admitted humbly.

"Ron, seriously," Neville interjected. "Scarlett at least admitted she was wrong, better still; she said she wanted to learn from you…and we all know; that Granger never thought you could teach her anything; simply because anything of any real importance, she knew already".

"You silly git, not every arrogant bitch you meet is a clone of Granger". Ginny added in a fiery tone.

"She was too close to a clone for my comfort and I have deep emotional scars from that woman that I'll most likely carry to my grave. Byrne just rubbed me wrong; Ginny", Ron said as he tried to explain.

"That's not a proper excuse" Ginny countered.

"Yes…I know," Ron admitted apologetically.

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End transmission

888888…for now


	10. Chapter 10

Be careful what you wish for 10

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; to the point where I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

**Standardized disclaimer**: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

**Category**: AU = alternate universe PH = Post Hogwarts but with epilog deleted

In other words; it takes place **after** J. K. Rowland's – infamous February 8th 2014 bomb-shell.

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Roll film

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**Setting**: the joint North American embassy, the reception/lobby area.

**Timeframe**: More than two fortnights's after the first reply to the colony proposal was rejected by the Woodland Elves.

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These days Ron was very conscious of his appearance, a fact which he now found a source of mild amusement, especially when he thought back to his Hogwarts days and his deliberate scruffiness. But _nowadays_; Ron was no longer comfortable walking about unkempt. Someone book-smart brilliant witch would say that he was overcompensating for growing up wearing hand me down clothing and that was indeed; a large part of the reason behind it.

His Victorian clothing was deliberately expensive and expertly tailored; which made him out of fashion step for the average Weasley, especially when compared to for his brother Bill who was considered the king of gothic scruffiness. But Ron had been re-made in Canada into a new man and a key facet of that transformation was in putting his unkempt days behind him along with the two who had used and then discarded him.

Ron fondly remembered Bill regularly earning negative comments from their mother on his 'Goth' like appearance and long pony tail…but now some of his Mum's wrath was being sent in his direction, for his sweet Mum actually agreed with David in thinking Ron was too much of a 'stuffed shirt' . Odd thing was the Goth subculture was actually all the rage in Magical London especially among the post Voldemort war generation of young people…and although some facets of Victorian stiffness was a part of being a Goth, the fashion was far more disjointed and mismatched (_in time periods_) in regards to items of clothing…than the ridgedly inflexible 1889 attire that Ron now embraced so fully. Even Percy in his immaculate modern suits and robes, was now considered more main-stream in his appearance.

There were several a very-good reason behind the way Ron dressed, but the most understandable one; was the feeling of uniqueness that Ron shared with the Woodland Elves. Ron was not his brothers, or Harry or anyone else, he was the totally, unique, '_one of a kind'_ personality that made-up Ronald Weasley. So today like every other day the youngest of Arthur Weasley's sons was dress from head to foot in jet-black…this particular outfit from his wardrobe featured his pristine top-hat and polished leather shoes; typifying the prefect fashion-plate example of the middle-nobility of England around the year 1889.

Although he and the male's elves sometimes cheated with outfits that crossed the turn of the century line, Ron had only one suit which dated as far forward as 1905. He bought it on one of his wilder days…when he had been rather – drunk. If however he was being _absobloodylutely_ honest with him-self he was most comfortable in gentlemen's' clothing dating around 1889. To the Muggles that he passed by on the street, his carefully crafted glamour-spell made him appear to be a twenty-four year old young man wearing a modern; well-tailored, business suit. Only people with magical blood could see the actual way he was dressed and that thought amused him too.

"Good day Ms. Wright" Ron said while tipping his hat in greeting, precisely at the correct angle that elvish custom dictated. "I'm here with the reply to the latest addendum the North Americans sent over yesterday. Is the ambassador available?"

"No I'm afraid not", Bonnie said with her customary warmth. Ron always looked forward to chatting with Bonnie and considered her a friend. "But you certainly have been busy…running back and forth between the embassy and the elves almost every other day. You can leave it with me now and I'll pass it on to Dr. Byrne when she comes in".

"She is still here?" Ron asked sounding surprised. "I had heard that she went back to Canada,"

"The mistakes on the first reply got her into serious trouble; that much is true," Bonnie admitted casually, "and I personally thought she had been sent home in disgrace. But she is back now…in the same cubicle; working closely with Mr. Crocket on all elvish issues.

"Well then; pass it on to them; I suppose. The current addendum missive has the standardized Elvish into English format", Ron said kindly as he passed over the diplomatic pouch.

"The ambassador told me that it's awful generous of you to provide side-by-side direct translation". Bonnie said as she took the pouch and wrote a note in the air to Crockett. "Ambassador Davis says it has speeded things up tremendously".

"I'm just glad to be of help. My input…such as it is; has been better received than I could have hoped for …even my elvish employers appear to be taking my suggestions very seriously, which has surprised me to no end as I'm not at all trained as a diplomat", Ron admitted honestly to the red-haired receptionist; whose outgoing personality made Ron instinctively respond with a level of candor that would have been most unusual with anyone else. In the back of his mind he knew that it was Bonnie's **gift** at disarming people she spoke to, which was the real reason the embassy hadn't hire a local-born receptionist. But in the end it didn't matter, he felt a brotherly fondness for Bonnie that was nearly as strong as his feelings for Ginny.

"I'm genuinely sorry to hear about you sisters injury", Bonnie said with heartfelt sympathy as if reading his mind. "I read in the paper the account about; _**gung-ho Weasley's**_ -horrible injury during her match with the _**Caerphilly Catapults**_, and the paper said it could be a career ender."

"She had five years as the- _**Harpies**_ -top chaser, which is far longer than the average player usually gets", Ron admitted sadly thus confirming for Bonnie the career ending speculation of the newspaper.

"I think she knew in the back of her mind that this day would come and she would have to change careers" Ron continued. "She fully expects to be quickly forgotten by most of her fans. The mob she tells me is a fickle beast …they can turn on a favorite so quickly, for they are very changeable in their worship. From personal experience I know that Ginny's opinion on fan worship and fame is spot-on. But; have no fear for my little sister during her transition from chaser into her post Quidditch career… for although she is still uncertain as to what she'll do next, she isn't alone in making such an important decision. She has me, along with the rest of the Weasley clan and most vital of all…her boyfriend; who has not left her side since the incident happened".

"…I heard there was going to be an investigation" Bonnie interjected.

"I should say so," Ron replied angrily. "She had procession of the quaffle with no-one else anywhere near her and she was struck by a large stone magiced from the stands as a deliberate act of sabotaged".

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"There he is, our cultured elvish ambassador…dressed as always; like a turn of the nineteenth century undertaker", David Crockett said sarcastically with Dr. Byrne so close to his side, Ron could have sworn the big-busted woman was fused to his hip.

"Good morning to you Mr. Crockett and to you as well Dr. Byrne", Ron said with elvish customary politeness and a perfectly calculated bow in the direction of the good doctor, who had a fearful look on her face.

"As we aren't good enough to be on your team…" David began only to be interrupted

"…Mr. Crockett…need I remind you (yet again) that I don't have a team; I'm alone on _this side_ of the negotiating table", Ron explained with his usual outgoing charm. "Secondarily there are obvious '_conflict of interest'_ issues that would prohibit your assistance on the elf side. If you think on it…I really don't need any help as my importance in these negotiations is actually very limited. Primarily, I translate directly from English to Elvish and then when I get a reply from the _**three royals**_; I translate it back, almost word for word from elvish back into English _in its unaltered form_ and then return their replies forthwith to you. My primary exercise involves the speed of my quill on paper".

"As I have done on several previous occasions; I have freely admitted to Bonnie here; that I actually do read over carefully all communiques from North America to look for the clever traps, which career-diplomats and their shady-politicians allies have tried to put in treaties since the dawn of mankind. It is my duty to the elves to find such traps and I honestly fear that I have missed more than just a few during these negotiations, which I imagine; makes me very ill-suited for this task. If I find something odd or that doesn't sit-right with me from the American side, I pass it and my personal recommendations on to the elves".

"You never told us you were helping the other side," David said sounding outraged.

"_The other side_…Seriously; David, have you forgotten who I represent in all of this?" Ron said exasperated.

"Ok-okay I did forgot for a second; by-the-way, I'm curious. Exactly…how do you contact the elves?" David inquired.

"The usual method of transmission consists of a trio of Amazons suddenly appearing inside my lounge without knocking on any door…at all hours of the day or night. Usually; at the very moment that I have finished jotting down my notes on any addendum I'm looking over", Ron said. The Amazons aren't a talkative bunch so for them it's normally; in and out quickly

"Then you're being closely watched; by the elves?"

"I'm being watched by both sides…and far closer than a prisoner on suicide watch", Ron replied casually.

"I offered you my help", Dr. Byrne said sourly, as David picked up the diplomatic pouch.

"No my dear lady, your offer was to pick my brain, out of pure self-interest", Ron answered coldly.

"I refuse to prostitute myself…" Scarlett began.

"…and I'm sure you made the correct decision, although gaining information through sex is one of the oldest tools of spy-craft… as Agent Crockett can easily tell you; he knows all about the Delilah trap", Ron said serenely.

"But you're not a spy, you are nothing more than a barely literate sales-clerk…DECOY", She replied with clear venom in her voice. Meanwhile; David's face lost-color, which instantly confirmed Ron's suspicions about Dr. Byrne and his C.I.A.'s profile, which must have all but screamed off the page his former weakness for; _know it all's_.

"Precisely", Ron said now smiling big. "Thank you for pointing out the elephant in the room. I shouldn't be the one doing this; even an illiterate sales-clerk like me can figure out that-much. There are supposed to be three senior elven diplomats handling theses negotiations…but as you can clearly see up to this point, they haven't showed up".

"Dr. Byrne was as usual; spot-on correct in repeatedly pointing out, that I was primarily trained in the making of wizarding chess-sets and hopefully some-day some-one will buy them. Can't either of you understand the pressure I'm under in trying to do this? The unbearable stress of knowing; that if a sales-clerk (me) from a-small shop mucks this up… it could literally mean the deaths of Millions?"

"Death of millions, don't be ridiculous; Weasley" Dr. Byrne snarled with contempt.

"You don't realize what the abrupt cut-off of trade; five months ago, means to the elves as a whole…do you?" Ron spat back

"Oh, you're now a shop-clerk and economics expert- _all in one_" Byrne said condescendingly

"No…of course not, forget I mentioned it; okay? You've repeated claimed (loudly) that I'm doing this just to earn my hefty retainer; and you'd be spot-on…for its currently paying my bills. It's just that there is a complicated back-story to the elf eagerness to granting you this colony; that if you knew…", Ron began softly while rubbing the emotional strain from his eyes.

"Yes- yes, that's it, tell us why the elves are so quick in replying to our addendums. Are they hiding some disadvantage that we humans can exploit?" David asked with desperate eagerness.

"Exploit; David,?" Ron snarled in a near growl of anger. "And you have the gall to wonder why I can't accept help from humans? I'm not even remotely qualified for this task, no question about that…and it's kept me up at night; worrying about the real-chance that I could muck-this-up. I haven't slept through the night since this started…sweating bullets over the fact that I could be doing something wrong. Merlin only knows why I got this dropped in my lap, but I'm a Weasley and we members of the undereducated working class, don't whine when something unfair happens to us. Blokes like me just step-up and give it our best shot".

"As to the reason that I dress like an 'undertaker' as Crockett so correctly described me; is precisely because that is the dress code of 1889 and that is what most of the elvish gentry wear. What you all see before you is the physical representation of the Woodland realm in human form. And I'm trying my very best not to dishonor the 'race of beings' I represent", Ron said in explanation.

"You look like a stuffed-shirt", David snarled.

"Really? Why; thank you, Agent Crockett", Ron said sounding genuinely pleased. "I was hoping for imposing, but stuff-shirt works equally well".

"You can't possibly be comfortable in that outfit?" Bonnie said honestly.

"You used to wear an identical getup; Crockett, why did you wear it?" Ron said in reply and more to Bonnie than anyone else.

"I had a job to do, besides; the elves expected it". David said and a moment later…realization hit him like a ton of bricks and his eyes went wide.

"Ah, enlightenment at last", Ron exclaimed.

"What's going on here?" Scarlett asked sounding confused

"You're still teaching me" David said humbly.

"All I can do is try", Ron said sounding pleased.

"What does he mean; David?"

"Tell her about wearing a **bustle**" Ron said chuckling softly.

"Oh I forgot about that" David said as he too; laughing out loud.

"David, you're trying my patience…again", Scarlett snarled hotly.

"You tell her Ron, she might not believe me". David said still laughing

"How much do you know about peacocks?" Ron said after a moment or two of thought.

"I don't understand", Scarlett said confused.

"It is the male that has the colorful plumage and he uses it to attract a mate…in a similar way the women of Victorian England in the late nineteenth century used the bustle to draw male attention to their buttocks", Ron explained. "_Victorian fashion_ is an obsession among the elves…and it is their only form of dress…but not just for them. We foreign devils have to wear it too, which is why I look like a late nineteenth century undertaker".

"But why don't they wear something a-bit more modern?" Bonnie asked quite reasonably.

"Good question. And the answer boils down to when the stiff _Victorian fashions_ came into vogue inside the Woodland Realm. The last divine mandate change accrued in what is 1905 in our calendar. The new '_extremely conservative leaning_' _**three royals**_ decided at that time to employ exclusively the Victorian fashions of the humans with the primary focus on the _eighteen eighties and nineties_ time period, which literally froze their dress-code with minor fluctuations in dress…covering a timeframe of about twenty years. All elves obeyed this divine decree (of course) and as it is the females who are the ones who control everything over there, the _fashion plate_ was literally set into stone covering a period of 1880 to around 1900".

"Human women were seen rarely in the old settlement for several reasons", David added, "but I imagine; that high on the list, is the restrictions and painful discomfort of wearing Victorian dresses. Actually; an enormous Bustle was the way that an elven unattached female indicated her availability to breed, exactly as a male peacock does with its plumage. By-the-way; Ron, the peacock thingy was a great analogy".

"…And you two wanted me to dress like that…wearing a big bustle…for the rest of my life", Scarlett asked in nearly gob-smacked horrified.

"I told you that you had made the correct decision." Ron replied with a small satisfied smile.

"I'm glad you brought-up the bustle thing", David said deciding to come clean. "After your rejection of Dr. Byrne for the apprentice position; Scarlett and I discussed what happen with Ambassador Davis, and he agreed that Scarlett would be a bad match for you. The profile match-up that the bureaucrats did on her; which certain people thought was so perfect…turned-out completely off the mark, especially when we discovered the depth of her inability to compromise…"

"…David, how could you", Scarlett interrupted, feeling so horrified that he was pulling all the skeletons out of her closet, she was rendered momentarily speechless

"…we were unaware that your preferred 'type' of female companion, had changed so radically over the last few years…which naturally; made Dr. Byrne unacceptable for the Delilah ploy that we had envisioned for you", David continued as if Scarlett hadn't spoken and wasn't standing next to him looking exasperated. "I'm really sorry about how that played-out; Ron. I tried to tell Davis that all the government sociologists had it wrong about your type of woman, but he wouldn't listen".

"…arrogant, _know-it-all's_ no longer have the same effect on me as they once did", Ron added in a whisper and mostly to himself; although Bonnie heard it and softly began to chuckle.

"You frankly threw the- _Samson and Delilah bit_ -out the window when you went on and on about life time commitment and kids; especially as we were hoping for more immediate results during an apprenticeship of six months or less. With the final deciding factor that we had been dead-wrong in our thinking…Dr. Byrne's often loudly repeated refusal to live her entire life; popping out the brats of an illiterate coward. She was apparently, not the '_living in the field'_ type of combination linguist and sociologist, we had been looking for".

"That would be asking too much of her…yes; I see that", Ron replied in a (fake) resigned tone.

"I take it that it's it still your intention to set up shop once again in the reopened Vancouver settlement", David inquired after his apologetic diatribe had ended.

"Yes…as soon as possible. I'll even live in a magical tent again…if I have too", Ron replied; now with genuine excitement. "For seven long years, I was utterly forgotten by certain National hero's types that live in England. They had no idea at all what I was doing and were too wrapped-up in themselves to care. Coming back to England brought me back into their narrow range of vision. I clearly see that as a mistake and I want them to go back to not caring".

"…Anyway", David said interrupting Ron's vocalized musing. "We North Americans don't want the knowledge in your head to die with you. You mentioned passing on your knowledge to a sexual partner and/or the mother of your children".

"Sweet Merlin on a bike, I was not asking for two different women. Agent Crockett tell me true…are you now my personal panderer?" Ron asked sounding once again upbeat and greatly amused.

"I'd happily become a pimp if that's what it took to get this job done", David said smugly. "Unlike you; a real Agent does whatever is required on an assignment. Luckily; when the Sampson and Delilah bit failed; out of pure desperation, Ambassador Davis became open to one of my suggestions...so that in this case, the procuring of prostitutes was not needed. I'd rather think of what I've done, more on the lines of an old Yiddish Matchmaker"

"What have you done this time…tell me you're kidding about all of this?" Ron now said in a growingly worried tone

"Your requirements sounded pretty straightforward to me when I heard them. With our first try at fulfilling them, proving to be a gigantic mistake", David continued while briefly looking in Scarlett's direction as if to indicate the mistake. "All we really had to do to ensnarl you; was find a witch '_dumb enough'_ to want to have sex with you…_again_. Someone who has already worn a far more modest elvish- _Bustle_ -for more than a year without any noticeable complaint…I freely admit that there wasn't a big list of alternative possibilities; but we did find one crazy-woman willing to have your children".

"She didn't say any of that," Ron said with his emotions almost went out of control again. "If you are speaking of, _by any chance_; my former lady-friend from the settlement…she didn't want that kind of relationship…not with me anyway. She said she was too young (at twenty-two) to settle down, and considering that I had just lost everything, and was left with zero prospects…I know down to the bottom of my soul that she made the right choice".

"You told her to leave you in the smoldering ruins of the settlement…didn't you?" David said declaring fact.

"I told her to go, begged her to leave, she had a future back in California", Ron stuttered as became emotionally unglue for the first time since the settlement burned.

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"True enough, you told me to go and in a moment of weakness …I left. But I shouldn't have abandoned you; just because you were destitute", she said from the doorway into the embassy proper.

"I was a total loser then…and my fortunes have improved all that much just a few months later," Ron said as he turned to look at perfection with tears running down his cheeks. A moment later she was in his arms kissing the tears away.

"This has to be a dream" Ron mumbled half to himself as he all but broke down. He had been under loads of pressure since he had step-up and taken on this thankless assignment and now he was beginning to crack under the strain. The last hour had been an emotional roller coaster and now this…

"No Ronnie, the dream was the delusion I talked myself into after I left you" She whispered into Ron's ear. "My aunts are super-great witches; but when I got to the house I discovered that I had moved back into the American version of 'Sodom and Gomorrah'. From my point of view; ninety percent of males living in San Francisco are openly gay with the remaining straights a bunch of self-absorbed jerks, just looking to score. And don't even get me started on the transgendered crossdressers and the sissified males. The few heterosexual women who still live there; dress either as if they are in their mid-fifties grandmothers, who have let them-selves physically go to pot…or they are around my age or younger and dress like common trollops".

"You shouldn't have returned to me", Ron semi-sobbed when deep-down he couldn't have been more happy that she had.

"Nonsense," She replied. "I must have been brainwashed by my two years inside the settlement into thinking Victorian is the only proper way for a woman to dress. Regretfully I discovered that the San Francisco young-trollop description includes my three- _bare-midriffs_ -Aunts. They are clearly free-spirits and have few if any relationship rules with my Aunt Phoebe's love-life containing so many men; it's really frightening to think how many times she came close to ending-up with several S.T.D's related diseases. Thank heaven she has finally settled down…but her lover isn't even a human, he's one of the male children of the god Cupid. Page I don't want to even talk about…which leaves the only semi-normal one and that's my Aunt Piper and she married a whitelighter/**angel**".

"Sounds like a blast to me, the prefect holiday from the elvish heavy conduct-restrictions. You're a beautiful woman and you were free of earthly restrains…so tell me; why couldn't you find a heterosexual cherub of your own?" Ron asked in-between kissing every square inch of her face.

"Oh; I had a full-blown archangel under a short leash at one time, but I abandoned him when the settlement burnt down. I've come to regret that decision and swore on the- _**book of shadows**_ -that if I was given a second-chance, I'd grab at the brass-ring with both hands".

"David; who is this woman?" Scarlett asked sourly while feeling a touch of jealousy. Clearly; the sales-clerk Weasley had a side to him that she clearly hadn't seen, the stuffed shirt had merely been an elvish mask, and if the passion she saw hinted at here; was any indicator. Well…Scarlett was smart enough to realize that she had just let a genuine treasure slip between her fingers…of course…what Dr. Byrne didn't know; was that she wasn't the first woman to dismiss this possibly remarkable young-man just because he wasn't her _intellectual equal_**.**

Scarlett had to elbow David in the side a second time, to draw his attention away from the kissing couple. Then she asked again and more sharply this time; "David, who is this woman?"

"Oh…yeah, Sorry; dear, but this match-up is very important to North America. The woman you see kissing the sales-clerk, ran a magical charms shop down the lane from Veselkin's place; for the last two years of the settlement. She was one of very few women who didn't seem to mind wearing completely accurate Victorian women's fashion…without cheating on the undergarments".

"Cheating on the undergarments? What do you mean?" Bonnie asked softly

"The elves seemed to know when we humans tried to cheat on clothing", David continued with he and Byrne so focused on Ron they were consciously unaware of who had asked the question. "Mind reading had a lot to do with…I suppose? We humans had to fully embrace the strict Victorian lifestyle or face instant banishment. I've never seen her in modern Muggle clothing before…and I must say she turned-out to have a really nice figure," that last comment was not well received by a-little jealous feeling Scarlett, who gave David another hard elbow in the ribs to prompt him to stop checking-out this new girl and resume speaking.

"Hey that hurts…you know", David said as he and Byrne leaned casually against the receptionist desk with their backs only a foot away from Bonnie. "Anyway the old clothing restriction is going to apply to the new settlement as well, from what I hear. We humans may run it, own every square inch of the settlement; but the elves will not tolerate any changes to existing business practices or their standing traditions and that includes; _I regret to say_, their ideas on proper clothing. It's was in the latest addendum to the treaty; _plain as day_ …the ambassador just told me so. At a guess; I'd say that she would still be in the settlement and with Ron, if it hadn't burnt down.

"David, does this crazy woman have a name?" Scarlett asked sounding unusually irritated.

"Her name is Tabitha Warren Greensmith;" David explaining from memory. "She is an in-direct descendant of Melinda Warren because Melinda had a twin sister who also was also a hugely powerful Warren-witch during the same timeframe as Melinda. According to the background I read, her married name was Rebecca Elson Mudge/Greensmith… and she too ended-up burned at the stake. The two sister's descendants stayed relatively close over the centuries changing names when each witch married. The two bloodlines actually mixed again many generations later when a second set of identical twins were born during this century; to Penny Halliwell. One twin was given up for adoption and grew up in Oregon…and after a messy divorce, changed her name to Patricia Greensmith in honor of her wiccan ancestor and had only one (out of wedlock) child; Tabitha. While the other twin kept her maiden name after marriage and became; Patty Halliwell, which explains Tabitha's connection to the- _**Charmed Ones –**_living in California.

"And she and Weasley had …a thing; in the settlement?" Scarlett asked not believing it at all.

"Just look at them Scarlett…what do you think?"

"But how could they…while dressed Victorian?" Dr. Byrne asked sounding puzzled.

"It wasn't easy, as they had to follow Elf courtship customs"

"Meaning what? Scarlett asked.

"The elves have always understood the human need to procreate but have loudly disapproved of the way we go about it", David protested sourly. "Courtship Chaperons for example, you have no idea how often I got a '_lecture_' by some uppity elf in my tobacco shop; about how much **all** elves dislike the way that us humans act so casual about mating; especially with total strangers and only for just one night. They utterly despise humans who engage in any kind of - _public display of affection_\- and have often given-out **fines** or even **floggings** for such serious infractions to their dating codes".

"So old Jonathan, I imagine", David said, "saw a golden opportunity one day and decided to call the elves bluff… and that's how I became a human chaperon for a human couple when old Jon wasn't able to; due to health issues. That old fox must have somehow found-out that his apprentice fancied Tabatha; _really-really bad_ and I for-one; have always wondered if one of Jon's elf customers read Ron's mind and passed on that fact to Jon. It would have been enough of an oddity for a mind reading Elf to encounter a male with sexually aggressive feelings for a female. Procreation doesn't work that way for elves".

"So some elf told Veselkin…what happened next?"

"For one thing; Ron wasn't allowed under Elf law to aggressively pursue Tabatha. It wasn't a death sentence thing, but a guy could get flogger really bad for trying to pick-up a female elf... or a human girl; for that matter. For another; poor Ron was too '_gun-shy'_ to make any kind of human courtship move, after being burned so-badly by Granger?"

"Who's Granger?" Scarlett asked.

"It was in Ron's files", David interjected casually. "Granger and Potter aren't known all that well outside of England, but they are big stuff in the U.K. I've heard that they once defeated a warlock named Riddle".

"I vaguely remember something about that and a duel in a courtyard…but not much more". Scarlett said sounding bored.

"There was more to it; I suppose", David continued. "There is clearly a lot missing from Ron's background information covering the time before he entered the settlement. But since the U.K. became isolationist, the rest of the magical world sort-of lost interest in what goes on over there", David replied.

"I never had much time to spare for world news; either, except for Quidditch news…of course." Scarlett admitted. "So what happened next?"

"I'm just guessing here, you understand…"

"I know that; go on", she said irritated.

"Well; old Jon was really fond of Ron; because in many ways they were almost the same person in heartbreak and life experience", David said. "Veselkin was the nicest guy and he looked after his shop-assistant like a son. So I guess…when a customer told him that his apprentice fancied the shop-girl across the way; the first thing he did was to find-out if the girl felt the same way about Ron".

"And he did this how?"

"You have no idea how many friends old Veselkin had in the settlement and that included literally; many hundreds of highbrow elves" David said. "My guess is…he asked a favor."

"And then?"

"Once he knew that they both felt the same way…_Bold as Brass,_ he went over to her shop and explained elf courtship rituals to Tabitha", David said smiling at the memory. "I wish you could have been there, for I was lucky enough to be around when happen and saw it with my own eyes."

"Saw what?"

"Picture this", David said sounding excited. "Veselkin's shop was half-filled with elf customers and I was waiting for Ron to get free to go to lunch. Tabitha comes in and announces loudly to everyone, that she had chosen to court Ron to determine his feasibility as a potential breeder"

"And the elves; they were deeply offended…yes", Scarlett asked.

"You would think that…wouldn't you. There's a death sentence to any human other than the Nine to speak Elvish, But instead of calling the law-enforcers, instead of a hundred lashes…every single elf went absolutely crazy over it", David said chuckling at the memory. "Imation is said to be the sincerest form of flattery".

"They didn't see it as mockery?" Scarlett asked in amazement.

"No and that was the odd thing. Very few in their high-up nobility had anything bad to say about it. I suppose…and this is just a huge perhaps; it boiled down to;** _timing is everything_…**well; that or it was the sheer novelty of a pair of humans inspiring to act like civilized Woodland Elves, that prompted a most unusual and rare display of cross-racial tolerance on the part of the ancient elves".

"This sounds like a set up to me, too many uppity elves acting out of character", Scarlett said mostly to her-self.

"As I recall", David continued having not heard the set-up comment. "Old Veselkin was always trying to nudge the elves into a more tolerant way of thinking. Overnight; Ron and Tabitha became the most talked about and watched human couple in settlement history, precisely because; they were following elvish courtship rituals so perfectly".

"Did Greensmith speak any Elvish?"

"I didn't…why would she risk death" David replied puzzled.

"How many elf traditions did she know?" Scarlett pressed.

"More or less what Ron taught me, I suppose"

"Did he help her…in her shop…tutored her after-hours to learn elvish ways, customs and traditions" Scarlett pressed.

"…I supposed he did, after-all; he fancied her long before their courtship became official" David answered. "But Ronnie helped a-lot of us humans through his _best buddy's_ dinners"

"Not half as much as a girl he was smitten with, I'd wager", Scarlett said as she was putting the pieces together. "Do you think old Veselkin planned it all?"

"Planned what?"

"The courtship? Your Veselkin would have been a very smart fellow indeed, to pull off something that big".

"What do you mean?"

"When my grandmother was a young girl", Scarlett explained. "Her rich parents gave her a _coming-out party_, to introduce her into high society. What if Veselkin arranged the same thing to happen to his chosen heir? He could have carefully parlayed his lovesick apprentice affection for another settlement dweller into bringing Ron to the full attention of the elf nobility; as a human capable of following their traditions perfectly and without a single mistake".

"That is awful Machiavellian: don't you think; Scarlett", David countered sounding mildly amused. "Veselkin would have taken a huge risk doing that. If old-Jon had misread the elf reaction or the couple had made one tiny slip-up in tradition…his apprentice would have been flogged _hard_ …nearly to death…and then banished for life".

"_**Fortune favors the Bold**_; darling, Scarlett said softly while affectionately patting David's cheek. "I now believe that old-Veselkin was perhaps a double-agent…or a Trojan-horse that actually worked for the elves, _**better-yet**_ …that old man had a far greater purpose in mind than just teaching a few tricks on selling chess-sets; when he taught Elvish to Weasley".

"That's a-bit farfetched…isn't it?"

"Consider this; Weasley and Greensmith's open courtship in the elvish way could have easily been a way to; _test the waters_, for some other major shake-up to elvish society that Veselkin and those behind him, had planned. It could even have been a plot intended to trigger a change in the _**divine mandate**_. Or better still …using your, _timing is everything _theory;it could have been just the distraction the nobility required to prevent some crisis (unknown to us); from coming to the attention of the common elf and thus; triggering the change. You're always saying how old Veselkin wanted to change the way the elves did things? What better way than proving his loyalty than with the possible loss of his own apprentice as a '_greater-good_' sacrificial lamb...distraction."

"Interesting speculation; Dr. Byrne", David said genuinely impressed. "Your love of detective stories and true crime novelizations has certainly paid-off. But with the old-man dead we will never really know…will we?"

"True enough; sweetheart…but here's my closing argument. Weasley and Greensmith fancied each other, that's a given, But wouldn't have been loads easier for them to do their courtship in private, in the bars and restaurants of Vancouver? Courtship on the human side of the gate…in magical Canada would be far less risky for a girl with so little _hands-on_ experience with elvish traditions".

"That old fox", David exclaimed as he realized what Scarlett was saying. "It's a pity that once again; someone closest to Ron, treated him as a disposable pawn."

"Oh I wouldn't bet that your friend was just a piece on Veselkin's chess-board", Scarlett said as she thought it over. "His affection for the girl is genuine, anyone can see that, but I'm now of the very strong option that Weasley always plans…very carefully; every step before he takes it (just like an Elf). The courtship thing involved his careful tutelage of Greensmith every step of the way, like walking a tightrope. I wouldn't want to play chess with him…"

"…Well I did and he never lost, he was the best in the settlement…unbeatable." David said interrupting.

"Then the courtship must have been as much Weasley's idea as it was old Veselkin's. I've grossly underestimated your self-effacing sales clerk. There is clearly a razor-sharp mind in that red-head", Scarlett said as she pondered out-loud. "After-all; the innocent appearing cub of an old-fox; becomes in time, a fox himself."

"I never thought of it that way, but you have a valid point", David admitted. "This puts a whole new spin on the reception incident. We must report this to the ambassador at once and somehow put pressure on Longbottom to tell us what was in that **box**?"

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"Have dinner with me, no better still…I can't wait on dinner; let me take you to lunch right now" Ron said excitedly, totally oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place between Scarlett and David…of which Bonnie; while not moving a muscle at her reception desk (hiding in plain sight) had heard every word, thus giving her much food for thought.

"Of course I will Ronniekins, we have to discuss children's names don't we?" Tabatha said in a seductive tone. "I was thinking Rose if a girl and Hugo if a boy after your great uncle"

"Already thinking of babies, when I haven't even proposed yet", Ron said his mind still in a daze.

"Ronnie, you surprise me", Tabatha replied with a mildly amused chuckle. "You're not allowed to propose. Such a thing goes against established custom. I have determined logically as any intelligent elf would; that you shall sire my offspring's. My aunt Piper as my closest living female relative, orbed into London with me yesterday and we have already visited the _**Burrow**_ and negotiated with the Weasley Matriarch; _your mother Molly_, your breeder price. Everything is all arranged according to elvish tradition".

"Then I already belong to you?"

"You always did; silly. Now I command you to take me to Lunch", Tabitha ordered; trying hard not to laugh and failing…as she and a joyous Ron arm in arm, left the lobby.

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End transmission

888888…for now


	11. Chapter 11

Be careful what you wish for 11

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; to the point where I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

Category: AU = alternate universe PH = Post Hogwarts but with epilog deleted

In other words; it takes place **after** J. K. Rowland's – infamous February 8th 2014 bomb-shell.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

**Authors rant**; Be warned the next two chapters will be Hermione's last appearance in this story and you-lot who think that Granger _walks on water_ are not going to like it. I'm first and foremost a Ron fan and this is his post-Hermione story…the girl who dumped him for Potter.

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**Time frame**: seven years after the battle of Hogwarts and nearly five months after the burning of the elf settlement just outside of Vancouver Canada.

**Setting**; in the most elegant (and pricey) Muggle restaurant in Dublin Ireland. Ron's normal elvish demeanor and self-restraint are completely gone, as he sat across the table lovesick/spellbound by the woman before him. He scanned every inch of her lovely face as he listened closely as Tabitha rambled on about her time back in California. Ron just sat there, beyond happy…with his greatest fear being, that he was dreaming.

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Roll film

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"I feel as if I'm naked, sitting before you", Tabitha admitted with a chuckle. "I'm fully dressed by Muggle standards and yet I feel so exposed compared to you."

"David calls me a stuffed shirt",

"I don't like that man and that vamp, Dr. Byrne just rubs me wrong", Tabitha said in a sour tone. "But as I was saying; some agents from our magical government showed-up at my Aunts place about a week ago. They said that they needed to interview anyone who knew you; Ron, and that got me worried."

"I haven't broken any human laws; Tabitha", Ron answered softly.

"But you have broken elf laws", she said knowingly.

"Not recently", Ron replied with a gentle smile.

"That Byrne woman insisted that I be shown the C.I.A. files they have on Veselkin and you. She seems to think you're a pervert",

"Did you learn anything interesting?" Ron asked sounding mildly amused.

"I learned that North America have wrong, most of what they think they know about you and Old Jon", Tabitha said casually. "My Aunt Piper and I learned more truths about you and your pre-settlement days from Molly; your mother, than was contained in all the C.I.A's files".

"No real surprise there…my mother knew about everything that went on in the _**Burrow**_; as she raised me and my six others siblings and believe me, she ruled her nest with an iron fist"; Ron explained. "She tried to mold each of us to become a copy of my father; but ended-up with the very different people that we are today. When I first came back after about five years in the settlement, I was struck by how different my remaining family members turned-out to be. There is a physical resemblance of course; but in dress and lifestyle we are very different people".

"I'm both gob smacked and glad that you got to talk to my mother, although I can help but wonder why you went to the all the trouble. As you know the settlement-me' better than anyone else", Ron asked in a genuinely curious tone. "I'll even concede that my C.I.A. profile is lacking in loads of correct pre-settlement information, which recently backfired on the Americans with a terribly executed Delilah trap".

"They tried to hook you up with the vamp I met…that, pig-headed; _Know-it-all_ with the gigantic teats?" Tabitha asked and when Ron nodded yes…she began to laugh.

"Bad fit" Ron questioned softly.

"Ya-think?" Tabitha snorted back fighting down chuckles.

"But really", Ron asked sounding genuinely puzzled. "Why make a special trip to the _**Burrow**_ when I told you almost everything that I could remember about my growing-up experiences?" Ron asked. "She saved my sister from Bella and stood-by and watched me do the same thing the rest of family did after Fred was killed. Pick ourselves-up, dust ourselves off and carry-on…because that's what common folks like us Weasley's do after any war, we carry-on. I seriously doubt that my Mum believed for one minute; that I would survive in the wilds of Western Canada. Merlin knows; she didn't recognize her own son when I first went back- home; some five years after I became Jon's apprentice".

"You were just back from that vacation when I first met you", Tabitha pointed out happily.

"Yeah, that's right", Ron said as he too, smiled at the memory. "But right now I'm curious as all get-out concerning how much you paid for my stud services".

"When I was approached with the chance of hooking-up with you again and they told me right up-front…that I'd have to give you children. I recognized that we'd be going back and living-out the rest of our lives in the _**Realm**_. That prerequisite alone made following elf marriage customs a no-brainer. As you might also know…prices for breeders vary from place to place, but I did manage to get a huge discount by buying the- _rut of the litter_", Tabitha pointed out jokingly causing Ron to laugh. "But I'll make you a deal, I tell you all about the breeder negotiations; if you tell me…what was in the box?"

"How do you know about that?" Ron asked mystified.

"Big Busted Byrne told me"

"The box contained the ultimate Elven trump card," Ron answered in total seriousness.

"And that's what settled everything for the elves", Tabitha said in disbelief. "It gave Longbottom a complete pardon?"

"Well that depends on what the trump was; doesn't it?" Ron replied with a knowing smile.

"There's more to this…isn't there?" Tabitha asked and Ron just smiled again.

"You're not going to tell; even me", Tabitha inquired sweetly.

"We're not married yet; my dearest"

"How much can you tell me?" Tabitha asked.

"More than anyone else knows…because I love you. The ultimate trump was a very special ring.

"A wedding ring or better yet; a noble elf's _Signet_?" Tabitha asked pressing hard

"It was a ring of great power. One of only three, given to the elves long ago and so special it had a name; **Nenya**…come to think on it; I don't know if it safe for you to know more", Ron said in a slightly worried tone

"Does Neville know?"

"No"

"But there is definitely a-lot more to this…yes?" Tabitha asked.

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"…More to what, may I ask", Hermione interrupted while sounding superior. With; Harry, standing only a half-step behind her.

"How did you find me?" Ron rumbled, abruptly feeling very stressed as the previous upbeat mood of the day was now ruined.

"Tracking spell",

"Won't work without an item of my clothing and I burned all my old things before moving to Canada", Ron retorted.

"Not all '_won-won_'," Hermione said using an old nickname of Ron's causing him to grimace. "One of your old uniforms…sixth year actually, was donated to the War museum at Hogwarts. I used that."

"Jolly good for you, so let's cut to the chase, what do you want this time?" Ron asked sourly.

"We both gave you our unbreakable vow and all we got was the fanciful tale of how you allegedly learned Elvish in just-under seven years, a story which…knowing how slowly you learned things back at Hogwarts, makes it a clear fabrication", Hermione snarled.

"It wasn't a fabrication, I have never lied nor played-false with you two", Ron said looking hard at Hermione. "Can either of you claim the same?"

"I still demand to know more", Granger replied having at least to grace to blush slightly in embarrassment at that truthful accusation.

"And of course you must have it right-now", Ron said becoming annoyed.

"You could invite us to join you for lunch and we could all have a friendly chat" Harry offered.

"Will you remain sober throughout?" was Ron's hard answer.

"Yes", Harry pleaded.

"Alright then, but separate checks…understood?"

"Done", Harry and Hermione said simultaneously as they sat down.

"Are you going to introduce us?" Harry asked.

"I'd rather not"

"Ronnie…as we are all being watched so closely; Please dear; remember your elven manners", Tabitha said sweetly.

"Quite so", Hermione said in her usual condescending tone…more than a-little unnerved that this pretty and shapely American was calling her Ron…dear.

"Alright then, it is my honor to present to you both; my new apprentice and fiancée, Tabitha Warren Greensmith".

"YOU'RE WHAT!" Hermione screamed in outrage.

"Ron; is this the girl from the settlement; that left you and broke your heart for only the second time in your entire life…the one that Hermione told me about?" Harry said; sounding so pleased he instinctively reached across the table and shook her hand warmly. "Can I assume that you've mended what you broke?"

"Yes, just mended in fact; so don't push him too hard with questions, the glue is still sticky", Tabitha answered causing Harry to smile.

"Well done old-chum, you bagged a bird with a sense of humor; which is loads better than I ever did. I'm truly happy for you both". Harry said clearly so pleased for his former best-mate, that Ron could help but thaw a-little.

"Tabitha; the bloke whose hand you just shook is one of England's living treasures, Harry Potter and his luncheon companion…the one who screams in public restaurants; is the ever brilliant Hermione Granger, another of Great Briton's national jewels…and one of the smartest witches I have ever encountered", Ron said amusingly.

"A pleasure" Tabitha said with forced politeness. "I have indeed hear loads about both of you"

"You can't be engaged" Hermione stated coldly as unalterable fact.

"I'm sorry, was your personal permission required, first?" Tabitha said in a disapproving tone, her long dislike of Hermione intensifying.

"Truth is Ron, we have no idea what you have been up to…after the last Battle", Harry said trying to avoid open war between the two women at the table. "I know that the twins joke-shop changed hands but not when. I know you left England shortly after the shop's sale, but again… not what you did; over there, in eastern Canada".

"Actually it was Western Canada, just outside the Muggle city of Vancouver. And I thought Hermione told you I was a sales clerk in a shop"

"And that's it?" Harry asked genuinely surprised.

"Well I learned a thing or two about elvish culture, their manner of dress and language."

"Dearest", Tabitha injected softly. "Don't you think that describing yourself as just- _a sales-clerk_ -is a rather large understatement?"

"I've worked out their written language" Hermione injected out of nowhere in her best puffed-up tone.

"No you haven't" Ron answered softly.

"Yes I have Ronald Bilus and don't you dare contradict me".

"Whatever you say; Ms. Granger, you're not getting me into another loud argument; not ever again. And now… moving on; what specifically do you and Harry want to know?"

"Well…everything" Harry asked in an unsure tone.

"Impractical and we've already been down this road", Ron answered. "Come-on; you two, ask me something I can explain over a meal and then my part in this- _vow bargain_ –can come to an end…forever".

"I have a suggestion", Tabitha said "Tell them what I myself want to know, what have you been doing to get back on your feet financially – you were homeless and destitute the last time I saw you".

"A rag's to riches story wasn't what I had in mind". Hermione pouted

"Shut-it, Hermione; I want to hear this", Harry snarled.

"What if I sweeten the deal for Hermione's benefit", Ron suggested, "by telling you all a few things no other human witch or wizards knows."

"Won't you get into trouble with the elves for telling them?" Tabitha asked in a worried tone.

"Not really, my former friends both gave me an unbreakable vow not to reveal anything I tell them to anyone living or dead", Ron explained.

"What about me?" Tabitha asked on pins and needles.

"As far as I know, you have never consciously deceived me, unlike others I won't name" Ron said in total seriousness without glancing at either Harry or Hermione. "But Harry is right about one thing. For only the second time in my life, I have opened my heart fully to a woman. I love you totally and therefore trust you with my soul, my worldly goods (as few as they are) all of my riches (not much there either) and all of my secrets, baring none".

"Ronnie," Tabitha answered with tears of joy running down her cheeks, "do you have any idea how horny you made me by saying that?"

"Miss Greensmith; please, don't be so…crude and disgusting", Hermione said scathingly

"I imagine your-sort doesn't get horny?" Tabitha replied her tone a heated challenge.

"My sort …what exactly are you implying?" Hermione began furiously as she reached for her wand.

"No, actually; she doesn't get horny…", Harry interjected without thinking.

"HARRY!" Hermione shouted again.

"Well, let's just say; not with me…anytime recently…that I was sober enough can recall" Harry answered in rapid-fire fashion and when he saw that he had made matters even worse, he backpedaled fast. "But then again we aren't engaged anymore- _and haven't been_ -for a couple of fortnights now. I'm sure my FRIEND; Hermione has had loads of sex, since we broke-up".

Ron chuckled softly at the sight of his old friend cowering in the heat of Hermione's unspoken wrath and seven years' worth of dreams of revenge on Harry faded away. Nothing in his heartbroken imagination could compare to what Hermione was doing to Harry every day.

He then turned his attention back to Tabitha…to the girl with her shoulder length brown hair and nicely balanced/average figure (top to bottom) and appealing face. For no rational reason; Ron suddenly recalled the sight of Hermione in a snug jumper and tight jeans back at Hogwarts. Her slight bosom and tinny rump was not a sight that inspired lust in the average bloke…and unintentionally Ron did a three way mental comparison.

The C.I.A.'s Delilah trap, the ever brilliant; Dr. Byrne had an 'hour-glass' voluptuously shaped figure, no doubt about it; with a huge bosom. Hermione on the other hand, even seven years after the war, was still more anorexic than not. But then Granger was always studying hard which meant often failing to remember to eat. It was only then that Ron noticed the lack of make-up on Hermione face and how her clothing did nothing at-all to enhance the facial prettiness that the _maker of all things_ had given her. In that instant Ron felt a touch of pity for his youthful betrayer, and that thought saddened him.

Tabitha; Ron decided was in the middle of these two female extremes and that gave him a feeling that warmed his heart, for she was as average as he was in so many things. Ron ended theses musings when he gently reached into his inside pocket and withdrew a rod of silver …elaborately carved in Elvish. Four inches tall and a quarter-inch thick; the rod flared at one end with a flat bottom and a twisting knob at the top. Without another word, Ron then set the rod upright on the cloth-covered dining table at the exact center between the four gathered there.

"What's that?" Hermione asked instantly curious.

"The elvish name doesn't really translate into English, the closest approximation is…"

"…You're obviously doing it wrong; there is a direct translation for everything", Hermione snarled hard in interruption, as she reached-over and picked-up the silver rod to examine it closely.

"OH goodie; I get to see the arrogant _know it all_…bitch…in action", Tabitha growled hotly, her dislike for Granger nearly set into stone by now. Ron shrugged in a resigned way then leaned back and waited, while Harry leaned in hoping Hermione wouldn't let him down. Then the all waited…and waited, as Hermione examined the elvish markings closely. Ron use to love watching Hermione doing research, but now the sight annoyed him. Neither of his old-school chums had changed all that much. Ron could see it plain as day.

"Come-on Hermione" Harry said in encouragement.

"I need my reference books" Hermione answered in frustration.

"No time for that; Miss book-smarts, you either know or you don't", Tabitha said tartly.

"This isn't a fair test!" Hermione protested as she became visibly frustrated and angry.

"Of course not, she needs her books", Harry interjected protectively.

"Yeah Right", Tabitha grunted, not believing a word.

"Tabitha, try to remember what I taught you...as the future head of our combined households you should be tolerant and more understanding as any elven matriarch would be…in such situations. I'm sure that Ms. Granger would _in time_, figure it out…from the inside of her elaborate library", Ron said leniently; which actually earned him a dirty look from Hermione.

"However as we can only hold this table out of reuse for so-long…let's get cracking; shall we?" Ron said with strained patience. "I acquired the ancient elven device in Hermione's hand from my late master as a birthday gift. It is roughly called a _strider_ _jammer_, and it was the tool of an ancient ranger. When activated it will put the four of us under a magical muting dome that will conceal from those without (human or Elf) from hearing anything we say".

"I know several muting spells already; Ron", Harry said irritated.

"None of which will work on mind-reading Woodland Elves", Ron said as he gently took the device from Hermione's fingers.

"But there aren't and elves here, I checked for Glamor or Invisibility spells, the moment we came in", Harry said defensively

"Harry, do it again; please…just to make doubly sure?" Ron asked with the upmost courtesy.

A now highly annoyed Harry complied, feeling very insulted; then drew his wand and repeated the spell. "There, like I said…no disguise spells anywhere around us", Harry said smugly.

"How many are there: Ron?" Tabitha asked sounding a-little worried.

"Wizards or Elves: Ron replied casually.

"Both" Tabitha said now seriously concerned.

"At least two wizards, both Irish secret service, seated by the entrance", Ron said without turning his head. "You should recognize them Harry, they are the same Irish Ministry bodyguard's that escorted you and the lovely Miss Granger out of the reception hall".

"He's right Harry, I recognize them both", Hermione said while trying not to stare.

"Not North American?" Tabitha asked.

"No actually; the Yanks tend to give me at least a-tad of privacy, their agents are all outside, I noticed several of them as we came in", Ron admitted. "Remind me; Tabitha to thank David for that…a good chap really, utterly useless with elves; but otherwise a good egg".

"And the elves?" Tabitha asked nervously

"Okay; get-this, there aren't any elves here", Harry said with a harsh…unshakeable certitude".

"Oh really?" Ron said. "My elf jammer tells me that there are four, but as no human can see them, my only question is which political factions of the elves do-they represent. I really don't fancy being knifed a second time", Ron said calmly in an aside, as he turned the knob and activated the jammer. Suddenly four _ghost-like_ elven-shaped figures appeared at different parts of the restaurant, spaces that had been empty a moment before…but these elves were in full-amour and only partially visible to the four under the transparent magical dome.

"I can see them", Tabitha said frightened.

"So can I", Harry said in stunned amazement.

"Make no sudden moves; they don't know I have a jammer." Ron ordered sternly. "I'm used to them doing this, for there are at least ten at any time guarding the inside of my flat. But-please; Tabitha, don't tell Neville; he wasn't raised with six siblings and is therefore use to a higher level of privacy than I am. However the good news for us right now is… the four in the restaurant with us, can't read our minds; meaning, we are fully protected under the dome…so all three of you…please, relax."

"Ron what is going on?"

"Well; you wanted something memorable in exchange for your unbreakable vow…didn't you?"

"Yes" Hermione replied; suddenly envious of the exciting world that Ron now moved in…as things tended to get a-bit dull in post Voldemort Britain.

"Alright then, welcome to the intrigues of the Woodland Realm…my home", Ron said calmly. "I speak to you primarily Harry, because of England's isolationism, you might not be aware of the ongoing negotiations between both North American countries and the Woodland realm over reopening the elf-settlement gate outside of Vancouver. I can't give you any details about that due to confidentiality, but I can tell you how desperate the- _**Three Royals**_ -are to get trade going again."

888888

End transmission

888888…for now


	12. Chapter 12

Be careful what you wish for 12

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; to the point where I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

Category: AU = alternate universe PH = Post Hogwarts but with epilog deleted

In other words; it takes place **after** J. K. Rowland's – infamous February 8th 2014 bomb-shell.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

8888

Places everyone…Roll Film…action

8888…previous chapter flashback begins

"Alright then, welcome to the intrigues of the Woodland Realm…my home", Ron said calmly. "I speak to you primarily Harry, because of England's isolationism, you might not be aware of the ongoing negotiations between both North American countries and the Woodland realm over reopening the elf-settlement gate outside of Vancouver. I can't give you any details about that due to confidentiality, but I can tell you how desperate the- _**Three Royals**_ -are to get trade going again."

888888…flashback ends

"This is rubbish", Hermione snarled. "You seriously want me to believe that a race of millions can't survive without the toys you make?"

"My humble chess-sets…of course not", Ron replied with a tolerant smile. "But I was actually referring to railway wagon loads of bulk shipments of several different types of grains and vegetables".

"Not meat?" Harry asked curiously.

"Meat except for fish was forbidden in the old settlement as the elves are predominantly vegetarians. The cooking and eating of beef was punishable with twenty lashes and banishment…which was the least number of lashes given-out for any non-capital crime".

"Not punishable by death; eh?" Harry asked.

"Not every infraction was, thankfully", Tabitha interjected with clear relief.

"But; why do they need human grain products so desperately?" Hermione asked softly while thinking-hard…and then a second later the answer hit her. "There is famine in the Woodland Realm." Harry and Tabitha were both stunned by Hermione's conclusion, but Ron just nodded his head…yes.

"Not just famine, the elves are also at war with another species in their alternate universe", Ron continued softly.

"With whom are they at war?" Harry wanted to know.

"My late master wouldn't speak of it, because frankly, I didn't think they told him all that much. So I don't honestly know", Ron continued. "But just before the fire I heard two elves in my shop talk about it in elvish which they erroneously believed I didn't speak. One of them spoke of a relative killed in a recent battle which fit in nicely with what my master had told me. From that conversation I deduced that the war is still ongoing. Old Jon told me once; that the elves and their enemies have been in military stalemate for decades _and that was only days before he died_… with neither side gaining a hundred yards of new territory from the other in nearly forty years".

"Like the Muggle great war of 1914-18, Hermione said sounding horrified. "But how can they absorb such huge casualties for forty years?"

"Longer than forty-years actually and the slaughter; I'm told, has been huge. The elves… to their never-ending credit have on multiple occasions each year; attempted to make peace. However each try has been regarded by their enemies as a sign of weakness and rebuffed…at least; so far", Ron explained. "But battles are rare things…try to imagine a county the size of Earth's Australia besieged from beyond the mountain chain that surrounds it like castle walls".

"But the _**divine mandate**_, wouldn't an unsuccessful war trigger it?" Tabitha asked.

"True; the- **First World War** -brought down the German Imperial family, the Russian too", Hermione interjected without anyone asking her too.

"Miss Granger is brilliant in her observations as always", Ron conceded graciously. "But the elves have had a huge excess in female births over the last fifty years. So the war has been a method for the Royals to cull their excess female population".

"That's barbaric?" Hermione interjected.

"Don't you dare sit in judgment of another magical race of beings or have you **still** not learned the lessons of imposing your Muggle sensitives on the House-elves of England", Ron spat his anger both abrupt and fierce. The heat behind that comment clearly indicated a sore spot with Ron which nicely shut-up the arrogant witch for a few minutes.

"Forgive me, all of you, I've been under a-lot of strain recently and even I tend to '_lose-it_' now and then"; Ron said genuinely apologetic.

"Yes, dear you do, but only in the face of utter stupidity", Tabitha said with clear sympathy; which made Harry grimace over Hermione's normally callus and abrupt attitude towards others.

"The point is; that the war hasn't upset the average elf to the point of causing a peasant uprising", Ron said as he resumed speaking after a moment or two of sitting quietly…while everyone else watched and waited. "But the issue that will unquestionably bring the _**realm**_ to the point of chaos and civil-war, which will then quickly descend into total anarchy…,is the last four years of massive crop failures".

"But if the crops are so bad over there, why hasn't that in it-self triggered; a _**divine mandate**_ change?" Harry asked reasonably.

"Until the Vancouver gate burned, grain shipments by the- _railway wagon_ -were arriving daily in the settlement", Ron explained in deadly seriousness. "Veselkin's little shop, Tabitha's charm and Crockett's tobacco establishments were just the public relations cover for the grain that actually was the keystone of the Realm's trade with us humans. Without those shipments, the realm faces massive political upheaval in less than a year".

"Oh-my-god", Tabitha said.

"What does this have to do with you?" Harry asked as Hermione in stunned silence stared hard at Ron as if seeing him for the first time.

"Well…that's not as easy to explain. My master was only allowed to train me in elvish as his replacement because the **Nine** were hereditary positions in the settlement and recently I was informed to my great surprise; that I am mostly likely the only licensed translator with any kind of in-depth knowledge of elves".

"Why would anyone bother to learn Elvish, when they are all required to-speak English", Tabitha interjected and Ron smiled back at her for her clever insight. She wasn't super-brilliant or book-wise; but then again, neither was he. The niece of the _**Charmed-Ones**_ had loads of common-sense and all the necessary street-smarts to survive in the real world…and that never cease to delight Ron. _'We're going to have really clever nippers'_ Ron said to himself proudly.

"She' right of course; why didn't I, see it", Hermione said gleefully, sounding utterly delighted to have Ron beneath her level of intelligence once again. "You have learned an utterly useless skill. Thank-God you're still the idiot I remember…Like learning to play Quidditch and chess which is equally useless in the real world. The American slut is right; all the elves speak flawless English."

Tabitha started to get up to bitch-slap the uppity Brit, but a now trembling in repressed disquiet Ron, stopped her cold a second time; by gently touching her arm while turning his head and speaking directly to Harry.

"Harry", Ron asked in an unnaturally calm tone. "Have you ever been to Germany?"

"No, why do you ask?" Harry replied puzzled…feeling more and more uncomfortable with Hermione's bad behavior.

"Germany is considered civilized and many of the magical Germans do speak English, but **not all**", Ron pointed out with his gaze never leaving Harry. "Inside the old settlement; English was required, and elvish if spoke by a human was punishable with death. But why do you think the elves arranged it that way. The question is easily answered; if you were to travel just five kilometers beyond the settlement containment walls and…"

"…discovered that no-one spoke a word of English" Tabitha said finishing Ron's thought like any old married couple. Ron was not offended that Tabitha had finished his sentence …instead; he gave her a smile of pure love and admiration; a look that Harry couldn't help but envy.

"They have a real good point Hermione," Harry admitted softly to a now deeply scowling Hermione, who was gritting her teeth in annoyance and barely restrained rage. "I could see the elves using the forbidden nature of their language as a quick way to catch spies"

"Well-spotted; Harry, that was indeed the elven intent. Getting a passport to travel in the _**Realm**_ was ruddy-difficult and that was why; whenever I fancied seeing Neville…who lived outside the walls, I had to go to him. He was very closely guarded and sort-of under house arrest at the place he worked".

"But you were able to get an ever so rare passport? Why do I find that hard to believe?" Hermione said bitterly…not at all happy that Ron would not yield to the wisdom of her clearly superior intellect.

"Your right, at first I couldn't get one, I'm not a national treasure like some people are. It was my late master Veselkin who pulled off that semi-miracle", Ron admitted freely. "After a year as his apprentice Jon began to insist that I have a social life of some-sort. Frankly; I was still too mucked-up in the head at the time…to want one, but he forced me to go out and regularly visit my '_only remaining friend_' from the old days and take him anything he wanted from the human world. Chocolate-frogs and candy quills for example; but more often than not, I smuggled in seeds and magical books on herbology and botany. I spent many a day with Neville and we really bonded. So after the first few years of this …I got to be regular sight to the Amazon Guards. Seeing me going in and out of the settlement so often, even after Jon had died, I still managed to get renewals of my extra-rare passport to leave and see Neville".

"I take it; that venturing into the Woodland Realm without one, was an automatic death sentence?" Harry said.

"Yes it was", Ron answered.

"What does it matter if human merchants can't speak elvish to an elf farmer out in the middle of nowhere? We humans don't sell grain to the average elf. I've read that it's the nobility that control things over there and they all speak English. You still have a useless skill-set; Ronald Bilus", Hermione insisted gleefully.

"So speaks a totally-committed isolationist; with her head firmly buried in the sand like an ostrich." Tabitha retorted irritably. "Dammit; have you no compassion for people outside of the United Kingdom? Is the feminist goal of equal pay for witches doing the same job as wizards, more important than the millions of average elves who will starve without our grain shipments".

"Ladies, please…you can have a cat-fight in the alley later", Harry said, feeling concerned enough to briefly stand-up to both women. "Right now I want to know how Ron expects to fix this!"

"Thanks for the note of confidence in me Harry, but I've already done all that I could", Ron replied sadly sounding _more and more_ depressed. "Most of the time it has been a hard uphill fight; but I more than half-expected that, really…and at this point all I can do, is hope that the North Americans will do, what I have asked them repeatedly, to do."

"And what's that?"

"That they focus on building the warehouses and the rail-lines; right from the off," Ron said in desperately urgent tone. "The key is the rail traffic, by moving bulk grain in as many _railway wagons_ as can be cycled through the gate".

"Calm down buddy... I can see what you mean; a solidly logical solution, well done; Ron", Harry conceded graciously, becoming uncomfortable at the sight of Ron starting to become unglued right in front of him. "But why aren't you suggesting the same thing to the Irish?"

"Because the other-side of the Irish gate is controlled by the same kind of appointed governors given a _hereditary mandate_ to rule in near perpetuity…just like the original seven families from Vancouver," Ron said sounding deeply frustrated. "With the new elven governors being a key-part of an elvan political faction of at least fourteen old-money families…who I believe, are the ones behind the assignation attempt at the reception and the huge fuss made over the Longbottom incident".

"And these fourteen want anarchy…but; why?" Harry asked as he leaned forward totally enthralled by Ron's story.

"I can't prove it and no-one on the elf side will believe me, I've tried" Ron said miserably. "Sometimes; the Great Woodland Elves act like a human child that covers his ears so as to not hear something particularly unpleasant. I get stonewalled every time I bring-up that the ultimate goal of the fourteen (as I call them) is a change in the _**divine mandate**_ with three of the fourteen becoming the new rulers of all the elves"

"But which three?" Tabitha interjected softly; while an insulted Granger sat in her chair pouting over the fact that she was right about everything and no-one at the table would agree with her.

"Yeah she has a point, who decides out of the fourteen who gets to rule", Harry asked.

"You both see it too…don't you", Ron said in a state of near frenzy. "The fourteen will fight among themselves for the right to rule in a _fourteen way civil war_…just like the European _**one-hundred year war**_, where entire nations fell in anarchy. Unchecked famine will trigger the same thing to happen to the entire _Woodland Realm_…it will unravel into total chaos and ruin; as each noble faction gets drawn into fighting its neighbor over diminishing food stocks; until a new set of three finally takes charge of the ruins. If I had to point a finger at the elves overwhelming racial flaw, I'd say it is that everything over there is an irreversible mandate that is directly connected to hereditary incompetence".

"This whole impending disaster traces back to when seven noble families _that ran the old Vancouver_ were first appointed to their governor position in 1805 almost a hundred years before the last _divine mandate_ change", Ron explained in an increasingly depressed tone. "Somehow the original seven families retained their governorship's when the current mandate came to power in 1905. For only the new _**three royals**_ with their new _**divine mandate from heaven**_ can cancel the decrees and hereditary appointments of the previous rulers. Over the last two hundred years, each succeeding family member of the Vancouver seven has become _more and more_ interested in acquiring family wealth through their governorship, than in doing a job they couldn't be removed from; while the current _**three royals**_ are in charge".

"Finally the majority of elven noble families had enough, they had complained for multiple decades about the graft surrounding doing business in the settlement, the filth, the rats, the garbage and the foul smells of raw sewage in the clogged streets…of the one and ONLY trade settlement that connected their world to ours. But after all that complaining, nothing changed. Almost every member of their nobility was sick of the overwhelming incompetence of the original seven, but the _three royals_ hands were tied…they couldn't revoke the hereditary mandate of the Vancouver settlement governor's without causing a _**mandate change**_. Their solution I must admit was novel. They decided to open a second gate to the human world and over time shift the bulk of trade away from the corrupt seven".

"That's actually rather clever", Hermione reluctantly admitted through grinding teeth, still unhappy at the way this chat was going.

"It would have been a clever solution…if the new seven governors appointed to oversee the Irish gate weren't already in the pocket of the old seven from Vancouver. You-see; the elf government is composed of a number of political factions with sometimes very different agendas and the old seven after two hundred years of graft…had money to burn; _as the yanks say_", Ron said. "So they bribed the elf families on the top-drawer selection committee into picking the Irish gate precisely because it had no already established railway or road system…and turned-down the Bonn Germany Gate which opened in-between a major railroad freight yard and the Autobahn."

"So the fourteen never wanted the Irish gate to succeed", Harry pointed out.

"Correct; that way, the bulk of the trade would continue to flow exclusively through the old Vancouver gate to the never-ending profit of the original seven", Ron answered in gut wrenching bitterness. "That was their ruddy plan, and after carefully studying the pamphlet the elves put out for the gate in _Northern Ireland_, four months ago; all I can say is…they had succeeded famously. However then fate took a-hand and the seven's corruption and incompetence finally bit them in the arse".

"Oh-my god…the fire" Tabitha said in horrified realization.

"Set by the household-troops of elf families that opposed any kind of trade with us humans because they think it's degrading the moral-core of all elven society", Ron continued ironically.

"Families that the fourteen couldn't bribe", Harry added; beginning to understand.

"Worse yet, the incompetent seven never wasted any of the revenue from the punitive rents they charged us shopkeepers; on fire-fighting spells".

"Sweet Baby Maeve", Hermione exclaimed unintentionally getting wrapped up in Ron's narrative. "How stupid of them, they lost everything…no wait. If we humans rebuild Vancouver; aren't they right back on the gravy train?"

"Actually; that's not true at all", Tabitha said while looking hard in Ron's direction. "When I first spoke to Agent Crockett about coming back to Ronnie, he took pains to tell me how the new Vancouver would be so much better than the old one…because this wasn't going to be an elf run settlement. This was going to be a colony…like- _**Hong Kong**_ -and the governors of this new colony will be all human". It was at this point that the other three at the table slowly turned too stared at Ron, who at the ripe age of twenty-four still had ears that blushed, bright red".

"A human colony like Hong Kong couldn't have been an elven idea", Harry finally said as he also looked hard at Ron.

"No, I suggested that to them; but it wasn't my idea originally. I was just in the right place at the right time and talking to an elf as desperate as I was to find a way…_**any way**_ to avoid the huge slaughter of a civil war interlocked with massive starvation...and how devastating those two combined evils, would be for the elven race as a whole".

"Right place at the right time?", Harry muttered half to himself while remembering his own brush with fate.

"I wasn't thinking; okay, I was fresh out of hospital and when I was asked…I had spoken elvish at the reception, so I thought I was forever banished. I frankly thought I had nothing to lose when I told Milord Gladwin of my master's crazy day-dream", Ron said with blunt honesty

"I never thought they'd go for it. But what I didn't know at the time was that, the fourteen had nearly bankrupted the royal treasury in deliberate act of over-budgeting concerning the building of the elf-side of the Irish gate…without including anything for rail based bulk-shipments… it was a measured piece of intentional sabotage; but their nobility refuses to see it", Ron replied in a matter of fact tone as if he was discussing a terminal diagnoses of a close friend.

"The self-destruction of the _Woodland Realm_ had been an obsession of Old man Veselkin for the entire time I knew him. When the fire happened, I briefly thought that I would be spared the agony of seeing first-hand…another civil-war", Ron said now nearly in tears. "I never expected them to open another gate, never dreamed I'd be drawn into their problems, yet again. But then Neville came to me asking that I somehow get him out of a pretty-serious personal mess. The reception and that- _tiny box_…solved that alright; but before I could make my exit along came _the fourteen's_ elven assassins.

"Next thing I knew; a rather high and mighty elf had sought me out and was asking me…me of all people; point-blank…how to solve a problem so big …that a wrong answer literally meant racial suicide. Dammit; why did they dump this in my lap…I'm no hero", Ron said despondently. "Actually; when I first suggested reopening the Vancouver gate to a highly connected elf she instantly thought the idea undoable…impossible to finance".

"So this _**Hong-Kong**_ solution was entirely Jonathan Veselkin's idea…and not his barely educated apprentice", Hermione pointed out with venom dipping form every word and by doing so…even Harry was stunned speechless by the level of animosity imbedded in Hermione's words. Again Tabitha began to rise; but Ron still flinching at all the repeated insults thrown his way, stopped her once again".

"You're right of course; redoing the settlement was old Jon's life-long dream. I have no problem giving full credit for the _Hong-Kong_ idea to my master. I'll even concede that if he was still alive old-Jon would have done a far better job than I have in getting his dream implemented. But he died a year ago, and I had to step-up. I really don't expect any credit for this, because I'd rather get the job done and a ton of elves fed…than worry about who gets the glory".

"I know how that feels", Harry said in a whisper to himself as he watched Ron unravel.

"It should delight you to know; Hermione, that the fear of mucking this up has haunted me from day one", Ron said as his depression took hold of him. "Think of how many lives depend on this dimwitted clod doing everything right. How many will die of starvation if I fail. I try to put on a brave front for everyone to fool people into thinking that I know what I'm doing, but just under the surface I know it's all a lie. I really didn't think Dame Ellen would take me seriously. It was a crazy idea, no doubt about it…but fate dragged me into this when it was a genuine hero that was required"

"A real hero like **my** Harry, Hermione said possessively with sanctimonious smugness

"…But no Irish heroes are available; lord knows, I looked for one", Ron said having not heard what Hermione had said or seen Harry and Tabitha looks of disgust directed at Hermione. "And all the American ones in California (_the charmed ones_) have apparently retired from doing deeds of daring do...so once again; I had to step-up".

"And that's the kind of problem solving that separates you national treasures types and the rest of us mere mortals", Ron bemoaned. "It was the average people like Fred and Lavender who died winning the Voldemort civil-war…the same war that you two got all the credit for. No-body remembers all the others that died…that Neville fought too, stood up- _face to face_ -with that evil bugger; without a prophecy to back him up…and yet no-one else but me and Ginny…recalls how big a hero Neville was".

"I have no seer telling me how to do this. I'm just a- _common bloke_ -stuck doing a dirty-job that no-one else wanted. It's the Hogwarts Battle all over again; when I do my-bit…It ends-up unnoticed…and that's fine with me, lord knows I don't want to end-up like you two. Anyway I've given you both far more than the unbreakable-vow bargain required…and with that said, I think it's time to bring this little reunion of Hogwarts chums to an end", Ron said softly as he lowered his head and began to stare at his empty plate. Granger's belittling and Harry's presence finally dragging his thoughts back to the battle of Hogwarts and all the deaths he saw there.

"No wait…I want to hear more", Harry protested as Tabitha with a deeply worried look on her face gently reached over and turned off the jammer.

"I'm sorry Mister Potter, but I happen to agree with Ron", Tabitha said sad. "It was a pleasure to meet you and all…although I can't say the same for your fiancée,"

"We' aren't engaged…dammit!"

"But; Mr. Potter…you keep acting as if you are", Tabitha said honestly looking with increasing concern at a suddenly comatose Ron. "Contrary to what the _**Prophet**_ says; to me, you two give a far better impression of a battling married couple…than embittered ex-lovers who hate each other. The way I see it; if you've broken in off as you repeatedly claim…then why you are seen everywhere together…even here".

"But I don't love her", Harry said

"Love comes in many forms, some of them destructive. But you always have the choice to walk away and never look back". Tabitha said; somehow sadly knowing that it would never happen.

"But I can't…she is the only friend I have left, why can't anyone understand that." Harry pleaded mournfully.

"I genuinely feel sorry for you; Mr. Potter. But I can't help someone who won't help himself", Tabitha said with resigned sympathy. "My aunt and I spent yesterday talking to Ronnie's mother and she told me _all about_ you and Granger. I imagine meeting a daughter-in-law for the first time made her very talkative".

"Any-way; she doesn't like you two very much…naturally. She filled me in on how your betrayal nearly ruined **my** Ron. You both played him for a fool, because you needed him to hold your little quest together when Granger's hero had lost hope. Ron hadn't told me of his past with you two, because it clearly hurts so much; thankfully for me…his mother filled in the blanks and I don't need to be the smartest bitch in England to put the pieces together, over how much emotional capital; my Ron put into a one-sided relationship with Granger".

"Now I just sat through, your brilliant bitch's finding fault in a job he didn't ask for and a task that both American governments have repeatedly told me wouldn't have gotten off the ground without him", Tabitha snarled at a cowing Harry...as Hermione sat in a daze like state staring off into space; totally obvious of her surroundings as she mentally '_basked in the glory'_ of her intellectual victory over an dimwitted sales clerk. All was right in the world again…for the one thing that Hermione could not accept was that that common-clod, like Ron; being able to do anything (useful) that she could not.

"Dammit Potter, Ron's always has had self-confidence issues", Tabitha growled. "I knew it the moment I saw him and his mother confirmed it yesterday. He can sell a leopard more spots; he's naturally charming and easy-going. He had loads of friends in the settlement, and people sought him out for advice; but he's paranoid about taking credit for all he does. He may have been the least important member of your golden **trio**, but he came into his own in Canada".

"Now I've just seen the female lead…in your personal Potter Movie; a genuine cold-hearted feminist, a bitch that never lost the chance to belittle him at every opportunity back at school, as if he was her personal _whipping boy_…make sure he felt unworthy of any credit for saving the elves; like any stereotypical fantasy sidekick. He certainly did more in your civil war than you and your history books acknowledge, and suffered _post-traumatic stress disorder_ over his brother's death as well as the other friends he saw murdered during that war".

"I've seen this before; back in the settlement", Tabitha continued. "I helped him though his black depressions and yet each time there's been a need; like me and my failing charm shop…he's stepped-up and helped and it was that kind of prefect-gentlemen, random acts of kindness; that made me fall in love with him."

"You don't have to tell me how great a bloke, Ron is", Harry protested strongly.

"Maybe I do", Tabitha countered. "As I got to know him, I quickly realized that any kind of fame and glory terrifies him…precisely because of what unending fame has done to the both of you. The last thing in the world he wants…is to turn out to be another Brit national treasure. First impressions matter and to me the both come-off as really pathetic, spending your days milking for all it's worth…one single day of glory".

"I haven't milked"…Harry mumbled mostly to himself.

"I couldn't be prouder of my broken Ron; pulling him-self up for another go after being repeatedly knocked to the ground by hard luck or a bitch like your Granger", Tabitha said as she fought down the urge to smack the _jack-ass grin_ off of Hermione's face. "Can't you see the kind of character it takes to step up and single handedly do this treaty business and perhaps prevent massive starvation? Hopefully; as the right man at the right time struggles to help a different race will be better remembered by the elves and North Americans in contrast to what you and Granger have done by reducing a trio into a duo".

"I had nothing to do with that!" Harry protested loudly.

"Tell me; Mr. Potter, how does it feel to know without any doubt; that the high point in your entire life happened when you were only seventeen. You're like a child movie star that's only going to be remembering for that _**single scene**_ in that ruined courtyard. You haven't done squat since…now have you? But more importantly why can't your Granger…live-happily in England, without the selfish joy of every now and then, seeking out **my** Ron and trying to make him feel like _comic relief_ in some book…a poor dimwitted clown?"

"She has to be the best at everything…I guess", was Harry's pathetic reply as he glanced over at an insanely happy Hermione.

"Is your abuser so wrapped up in her loftier intellect that anything or better still…anyone, like my Ron who clearly has specialized in one narrow field…dammit!", Tabitha abruptly swore as she lost her temper for a moment.

"Tell me how a man from _Western Canada_ can possibly pose a threat to her feelings of intellectual supremacy?", Tabitha asked with deep resentment. "Why come all the way to Ireland seeking out a jilted/unrequited lover that she happily discarded in favor of a hero, who appears to me as: weak, pathetic and somewhat incompetent. What motivates such a sudden obsession and against Ministry orders too?"

"She has become fixated with Ron since that first interview. If I was surprised by what he's been doing, then so must Hermione. I never imagined that he would be representing an entire race alone; especially on something this important. Hermione isn't use to Ron in a leadership role and I guess that has unglued her a-tad. I never gave it much thought, because I always knew; that someday…another Hero would come along and replace me as the public's golden boy", Harry pointed out with a level of modesty that made Tabitha's dislike of him, somewhat lessen.

"If today is any indication, I honestly don't think she can accept on any level…being second best in anything. Too much of her mental health is wrapped-up in being the smartest person in any room she enters and when she isn't any more…look-out", Tabitha said in warning. "The way I see it, the biggest thing that her fragile ego will not accept, is that seven years after making her choice in picking you; _the star of the movie_…she just-might have picked the wrong guy".

"No offense intended, but to me …Ron does deeds of daring-do every day now; while you turned out to be a pathetic former-hero that destiny briefly used and then discarded" Tabitha said with brutal honestly to Harry. "Perhaps there is a reason that we never hear about what happens to a hero like you after the prophecy is done. What happen to Jason after getting the _Golden Fleece_ and sailing off into the sunset? Granger got her **Hero** and then without fate propping-up your spine, you reverted back to the way destiny found you at age eleven…a physically and verbally abused child, who grew-up into an emotionally damaged; incompetent weakling as an adult".

"I'm not that pathetic, but I do concede to having some emotional problems (P.T.S.D.) that need a-little work" Harry admitted with unusual candor.

"You did what fated wanted; I give you that. You had to **die** and then come back to kill a far more powerful warlock with a disarming hex… come-on Harry, a disarming hex…that's the best you could come-up with? That's god-dam pathetic…isn't it? And honey…let's face facts; your Auror skills of today; just suck".

"So the only way that Granger can live with the mistake of picking you over a guy…who has most likely just saved an entire race, is to try to justify what she did; by making a real man look intellectually smaller than you", Tabitha retorted with a fact which totally gob smacked Harry.

"Now due to Granger's desperate need to feel superior over anything male", Tabitha said holding her anger back with great-effort. "My Ron has withdrawn from us and is questioning in his mind…why he lived when all those others around him, died. Fred's death still haunts him and that's called- _**survivor's guilt**_ -in spades. Something I guess that you also suffer from…"

"…yeah…I do…all the time" Harry admitted sadly.

"…and your uppity friend/fiancé has just deliberately re-triggered it", Tabitha snarled. Well; here's another huge bit-of truth for you to pass-on to the bitch when you get her home. Old Jon's been dead for a year and if this colony idea actually happens…it was **my** Ron who made it happen".

"She will never accept that; but I do", Harry said desperately. "And I can help Ron with…"

"No you can't…don't you see that? Getting this done is Ron's burden, not yours…for no better reason than the fact that destiny is clearly finished with you", Tabitha said, "besides; the treaty is almost done; David said it was mere days away from signing".

"I miss him so much" Harry said with indescribable sadness

"Let him go; Harry. Just look at him, I've known all-about Ron's P.T.S.D. since we first meet. I use to do volunteer work at a veteran hospital in California before I went to the settlement so I know a broken man when I see one. Ron's has suffered a ton of nightmares and has been deeply-traumatized since the Voldemort war; with you and the arrogant-bitch and your twin betrayal of him...being partially to blame for that".

"Take your personal burden home; Mr. Potter, for you picked her, just as much as she chose you. But if you can ever break your addiction to Granger's abusive dominance games…permanently; come and find us- '_average people_', we'll give you enough- _**tough love therapy**_ -to get you back on your feet for a fresh-start on life". Tabitha said while knowing with absolute certainty; that it would never happen.

"Okay…I'll see you both again; someday", Harry said sadly, as he pulled out of his coat pocket a- _**rider-less black knight**_ -chess piece and taking Hermione's unresisting hand…in a regret filled tone, said; "Home"

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'Cut…check the gate! …Print that'.

Aka, End Transmission

888888 …for now


	13. Chapter 13

Be careful what you wish for 13

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; to the point where I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

Category: AU = alternate universe PH = Post Hogwarts but with epilog deleted

In other words; it takes place **after** J. K. Rowland's – infamous February 8th 2014 bomb-shell.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

I assume from the lack of reviews…that only one or two are still reading this, which is fine…really. I write tales that I want to read and I'm not at-all surprised that my pro-Ron fanaticism is not welcomed in pro-Hermione fanfiction. Good or bad however; I will be finishing this little tale, because I do **not** abandon my stories.

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_**Setting; opening scene background**_: It is the morning after the semi-disastrous luncheon with Potter and Granger. Tabitha somehow succeeded in getting a text message to Bonnie's Muggle cell-phone, _stuffed in her purse_ at the embassy. And then the two girls with the help of a couple of linebacker sized C.I.A. agents on guard outside the restaurant (friends with Bonnie) managed to get a nearly comatose Ron in to a taxicab and back to his empty flat. Once there they put him to bed.

Neville was of course; unable to help, being still in London, at the bedside of the injured and slowly recovering; _**gung-ho**_ Weasley.

**Opening scene**: Bonnie pops over before going to work to see how Ron is doing.

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Places everyone…Roll film…action!

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"Can I get you anything, coffee…tea? Tabitha asked.

"I brought my own thanks, is he awake yet?" Bonnie inquired softly, as the two young women moved away from the front door and sat down on the Victorian-era love-seat

"His eyes are open, but he's still unresponsive"

"Shouldn't he be in a magical hospital…nut ward?" Bonnie asked indelicately

"Oh, no; Regular mental healers can't help him. I've seen this before at the Veterans Hospital back in San Francisco where I did volunteer work. Ron had black-periods in the settlement while I knew him and in each case he got himself out of it…without spells or drugs", Tabitha said proudly.

"Not at all your stereotypical super-hero, is he?" Bonnie said.

"He's very mortal, thank heavens. Actually; now that you mention it…just yesterday; I did meet what England calls their National heroes and frankly I wasn't all that impressed".

"Potter and Granger?" Bonnie asked.

"You've met them?"

"No; actually",

"Count yourself lucky", Tabitha said sourly. "Potter has very little going for him except for what he did when he was a teenager…and since then the boy has entirely lost his backbone. You should have seen him cower before his girlfriend. While Granger and Byrne could have been _know-it-all_ identical twins separated at birth…two very different physical types to be sure…but still self-absorbed, arrogant; bitches".

"If Granger really is a copy of Byrne, I'm glad to have never met her", Bonnie commented and she paused for a minute…before saying in a rush; "I've overheard them talking about Ron yesterday; meaning Crockett and Byrne…at least I eavesdropped enough to inspire me do a little digging in old newspapers. I like Ron and I consider him to be a good friend. The way I figure it; he's done something to turn Byrne against him…and that's why I dropped by today; to warn him!

"Warn him about what?"

"Byrne thinks he's a pervert"

"Oh yeah, I know about that, but don't worry, he has a normal set-of appetites and I can testify to that…first-hand", Tabitha said knowingly in a slightly husky voice.

"I'll want details later, but right now I should tell you that they were thick as thieves yesterday before you two left for lunch. She's claiming that old-man Veselkin planed your Elf courtship in the settlement…he didn't, did he?"

"Yeah he did", Tabitha said far too casually for Bonnie's liking. "It was Jon's idea originally and Ron (bless him) didn't want me to do it at first. He said he couldn't stand the thought of me getting flogged. He didn't think I knew enough about the elves to justify the risk; and he was right…of course. It took me a solid week; but after a-lot of trips to the storage room in the back of my charm shop…I somehow convinced him to let me do-it".

"You promiscuous mink"

"Guilty…in actually though; I consider my-self very-very monogamous compared to most of my Aunts, especially Phoebe…but in the arms of the - _**right**_ –man; I just lose it…I can easily get extremely horny", Tabitha admitted with zero embarrassment. "Besides, no-one…not even my irresistible red-head; tells the niece of the _**Charmed-Ones**_ to stay out of danger. Risk and peril in the name of a good cause are as irresistible to me, as honey is to bears; actually I'm especially vulnerable as a descendant of a Warren witch".

"But wouldn't one hundred lashes…hurt? Bonnie said to this fearless witch.

"I knew about all that going in…but; Jon was dying, slowly but assuredly and he explained to me very carefully that he desperately wanted to make sure that Ronnie was known to all the elf nobility. Old Jon essentially begged me to do it, although I wasn't to tell Ron about it. Courtship strictly according to elven rules…was to be Ron's social debut".

"Is that like a coming-out party?" Bonnie asked

"Same thing I guess; why?"

"Then 'big busted' had it right, Byrne said that was the reason behind the plot", Bonnie said while thinking it over. "You know I did my own research about Ron, and at one time he was actually the _best-buds_ with Potter and Granger and they were even called the _golden trio_.

"Yes I know", Tabitha admitted sadly. "The average Brit couldn't wrap their heads around the concept of three heroes, so Ron got deleted from their history…a pity, really".

"Those two were a big-part of ambassador Weasley's past. I mean…when he served in the Voldemort civil war with them and… what did I say", Bonnie abruptly asked when Tabitha acquired a strange expression on her face.

"It's just; well…I've never thought of him before, as the ambassador for the Woodland Realm."

"Well that's what he is…isn't he?" Bonnie said. "I've only seen three elves the entire time I've been in Dublin and they were warrior Amazons. The public face of the elves is Ron; even though I doubt he would claim the title".

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"You are correct; he is our sole ambassador to human-kind. Someone, make a note of that…something must be done about that disparity", said a disembodied voice out of nowhere before a golden glow appeared in the center of the lounge. A glow which expanded rapidly before fading away, leaving in its wake ten stately dressed elves with a frail looking elderly one; already seated in an elaborately carved wooden chair.

Bonnie was stunned motionless until she felt a hand on her arm, turning her head she heard Tabitha whisper; "_Get up slowly and then do exactly what I do_". Thankfully Bonnie obeyed without question as the two young women, both in slacks repeated perfectly the kneeing bow that Ron preformed the first time Dame Ellen had entered Ron's flat. With heads down they only heard the mutterings of approval in elvish from the ten and didn't behold Dame Ellen big smile.

"You honor our humble home, high-born", Tabitha said in English, "I regret to say my breeder is indisposed"

"We had heard, that you formally claimed him for your bloodline. How goes the negotiations?" Dame Ellen inquired politely.

"They are successfully concluded Milady. Dowry set and paid". Tabitha said formally.

"Then Jonathan trained you well",

"I beg pardon Milady but you are incorrect", Tabitha interjected graciously. "My breeder was the one who instructed me on proper manners and traditions, not master Veselkin…for he was too sickly to undertake such an important task. I humbly beg pardon if I unintentionally offend; for I still have much to learn from my intended."

"We remember you now, the human girl from the settlement; that courted in our fashion the translator. Yes-yes…most amusing. You did well indeed…surprisingly…for a mere human", Dame Ellen said the approval thick in her voice. Her entourage mirrored that approval with slender smiles.

"You are however improperly dressed", one of Dame Ellen's entourage muttered.

"For the Woodland Realm; yes _gentle_, but here among humans…"

"…Quite right…someone make a note about acquiring an appropriate wardrobe; without delay", Dame Ellen commanded.

"What level Milady?" was the response from an elf in the back?

"The same level as him of course. And see to it that they both have something appropriate for the special occasion. Topnotch all the way, spare no expense for events press us",

"Yes Milady", was again the response from an elf in the back?

"Now what is this about the translator being indisposed, should I call for our healer to attend him? I still have need of his services", Dame Ellen asked her concern obvious.

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"No need Milady, I am here", Ron said pale-faced and sickly as he staggered into the lounge.

"Translator, you are unwell, I can see it. We have asked too much of you", Dame Ellen declared.

"A momentary weakness that will pass, Milady", Ron said as he gathered his strength. "Now to more pressing matters, how may I serve?"

"I have come to discuss matters of state, can the red-headed female be trusted".

"I have come to personally trust Bonnie Wright, and have given her; as a fellow lover of languages, a few beginning-level lessons in Elvish so as to test her suitability…over the occasional luncheon that we have shared. She has a good ear and picked it up faster than I expected".

"It is unlawful to speak or train a human in our language", a back row elf declared.

"I know that _gentles_, but as I have been reliably informed…the Elf Law forbidding the learning or speaking of Elvish only applies to within the _**Woodland Realm**_. Secondarily; in light of the unfortunate truth that the number of licensed Translator's with any kind of training in truth/speak Elvish…now standing at exactly one…" Ron began.

"…We will speak of that later; Translator", Dame Ellen admonished

"As you wish; Milady. But the point is that I said I have faith in Miss Bonnie Wright ability to be discreet and I feel the _Realm_ would be well served if my suggested choice was to receive more training from an elf sympatric to the cause of trade".

"Duly noted; master Translator", Dame Ellen commanded, "We will place this recommendation, as well as all the others you have made in our service…under proper advisement".

"Yes…Thank-you Milady", Ron said. "However; I agree with you on your security concerns. As Miss Bonnie Wright currently works on the staff for the North Americans…there is therefore a possible _conflict of interest_ issue here; especially concerning anything we will discuss of a sensitive nature. Perhaps if you gave the ladies permission to withdraw; before we continue", Ron said as he gently escorted Bonnie and Tabitha toward the door.

"We say to thee…**Hold**! Not so fast translator, We see the hand of fate in this. That Miss Wright works for the Americans, could be seen as a fortuitous circumstance. Yes of course, she shall carry our message to the Americans", Dame Ellen said sounding very pleased with her-self.

"Miss Wright"; Dame Ellen said sweetly. "Our translator has expressed a firm opinion that you might have a predisposition with regards to our language. Is the idea of becoming fluent in elvish appealing to you?"

"Yes milady", Bonnie replied semi-stunned.

"For us to give any weight to his proposal; we would need to, '_put you to the test'_ our-selves", Dame Ellen said. "We wish you to travel to your embassy and bring back with you; your ambassador with the smallest possible entourage. We understand that Mr. Davis has been authorized by both North American Governments to sign the preliminaries".

"That's true; Milady", Bonnie said in reply. "The ambassador has expressed to me several times, his eagerness to get the treaty signed so that the construction can begin".

"Splendid", the Dame replied. "Go fetch him at once. Tell him that the moment his signature is affixed to the treaty the gate outside of Vancouver will open."

"Yes Milady", Bonnie said and then preformed an awkward curtsey; before she bolted out the door in her eagerness to report to Davis that the treaty was ready.

"Now that we think on it, it would better for us if the; _head of your household_, lingered for a-bit", Dame Ellen commanded which stopped Tabitha half-way out the door and she gave Ron a puzzled look. Meanwhile Dame Ellen had turned to one of her attendants and said in a side. "Attend to the wardrobe issue at once, and only the finniest materials…mind-you or you'll suffer for it."

"Yes Milady" the elf in the back said before he glowed gold briefly and disappeared.

"Tabitha; help me to the floor, please", Ron asked; his weakness obvious to all.

"Oh; no…you are too unwell for such formalities; I grant you permission to set upon the small sofa", Dame Ellen decreed. Ron for his part gratefully did not argue, for it had been the voice of Dame Ellen that had drawn Ron out of his black depression and back into the struggle of living. He had long ago reconciled himself to the fact that he would suffer in the afterlife for his failings in this one. And hearing Dame Ellen's voice had reminded him that Jon's dream was not yet a reality. So like a beaten boxer down for the count, Ron struggle to his feet to press-on; win-or-lose.

"First of all, the _**three Royals**_ are deeply grateful for your input on this treaty, in particular the observations on how a human colony would **not** be obligated to follow our dress code and customs without language in the treaty requiring it. We cannot express strongly enough how the addendum concerning the dress code; silenced, those factions within our; _body-politic_ -who felt that a mere human could not possibly be qualified to look after our cultural interests. Your idea I assume; Jonathan", Dame Ellen said casually to Jon's magical portrait.

"No Milady", the spirit of Jon answered. "My dream settlement was just that, a dream. I considered the whole thing nothing more than a mental exercise to pass the hours of idleness in the settlement…in-between customers. Never in my wildest imagination did I ever think that my _fantasy on paper_ would be realized".

"How could I ever have predicted; that a full year after my death, due to a lack of firefighting spells…the old settlement would catch fire and burn down to the ground, a disaster of equal destructiveness as the burning of Rome in 64AD or the great fire of London in 1666". Jon said while smiling at the irony.

"But Jonathan, your apprentice is always giving you full credit for all of this", Dame Ellen said with genuine astonishment and surprise, "and when I saw the three dimensional blueprints and recognized them as the same map you use to show me whenever I came over for a visit. I just thought… Wait a minute, do you mean that you- **didn't** -order the translator to increase the size of the old settlement by five times…to fit the exact dimensions of your map?"

"No Milady", Jon replied with a straight 'painted' face.

"But…but that means…"

"…that my apprentice was wise enough to take advantage of extremely-unique circumstances, to suggest to Milord Gladwin the perfect solution to your most serious _life or death_ problem. The map which composed my day-dream settlement was in all actuality; merely an afterthought and only thrown into this mix, when the Americans proved to be utterly clueless on how to lay out a proper settlement", Jon declared it deadly seriousness.

"I fully concede that the idea of a Hong-Kong like colony; was my idea, as it got rid of several major-evils of the old settlement. I'll even take credit for rehearsing a pretend presentation to some imaginary elven official…but again; that was only to pass the slow-time in-between customers", Jon said with total honesty.

"Everything else has been Ron's doing. When he told me what had happened with Milord Gladwin I was literally stunned…that my crazy idea wasn't instantly rejected out of hand. I imagined that it all boils down to being in the- _right place at the right moment_ -in history. I beg you to consider this as well…I wasn't alive to see the pamphlet on the Irish gate or make the deductions on how the _**new-seven**_ elf Governors for Ireland has so obviously sabotaged by their designs so that no grain shipments could be transferred there. You have given a dead man far too much credit for all of this. The original idea may have been mine; however the implementation of the concept is all Ron's".

"It was your original idea master", Ron protested weakly to the portrait.

"The seed yes, but you are the one who natured the plant to the point of it baring fruit. I also taught you how to renovate muggle chess sets into wizarding ones, but those lessons haven't changed the world like your taking my crazy hobby and turning it into the salvation of the great Elves". Jonathan said with obvious pride from within his portrait. "Also; I wasn't the one who first suggested the elvish dress-code be enforced within the colony and the other dozen addendums that I have watched you added to the treaty with the elves long established traditions and customs firmly in mind. When I lived; we never discussed the kind of _Woodland Realm_ protective addendums that you have insisted on…and all great elves should be forever in the debt to my shop for creating the only translator capable of saving the your race from starvation"

"About the shop…I lost everything of yours in the fire; due to a court order, and what little that I was able to salvage- _meaning my stuff_ -has not been a smashing success among humans", Ron admitted while avoiding any mention of Jon's praise. "Wizarding chess players are declining on this side of the gate. Only the elves recognize how chess promotes analytical thinking",

"Meaning what Ronald?" Jon asked; knowing all too well how hard his apprentice avoided credit for what he did.

"That selling of renovated wizarding chess-sets haven't work out all-that well for me, master", Ron replied with a sad-resigned smile. "I've tried everything; I have nearly gone broke paying for advertisements that didn't generate the kind of sales to make the effort worthwhile. Truthfully, between the stress of the negotiations and the failure of the chess business, I'm surprised that I haven't gone mental sooner".

"Take credit for what you've…" Tabitha began

"…Yes; I did step-up when the elves left me holding the bag; but Jon, you wouldn't have made a _better job of it_ and avoided all the mistakes I've made", Ron interrupted. "In the end…I did the best I could and before any of you say something spiritually profound, I've already learned the hard way; _time and time again_ to recognize my limitations".

"Limitation my arse, Granger's got you second guessing your self-worth again…the indicators are obvious", Jon said short tempered.

"Well…they did do a number on my head yesterday", Ron admitted. "However; I can't honestly blame them for the hard-cold fact…that I honestly don't have the name recognition with the magical world of humans; to make a real living out of making wizarding chess sets. It's only been my Elf retainer that's been keeping my body and soul together…and that ends in a couple of months".

"Subject to renewal", Dame Ellen added softly, "or don't you remember?"

"I do remember…but my part is done…isn't it? The treaty is ready for signing", Ron asked sounding surprised, "that Granger showed-up to push my face in the dirt yet-again…doesn't in any way change my end-game. My plan always was to get the treaty signed and then asked ever so respectfully; to have my remaining retainer paid-out in a lump sum…so that I could move back to Vancouver".

"My dear translator, even with the treaty signed, it will take years before the colony will be remotely livable", Dame Ellen pointed out.

"Yes Milady, but in consideration that my second attempt at running a business is now in ruins, I've come to the inescapable conclusion that opening another chess-shop in the rebuilt settlement is no longer feasible", Ron admitted with his customary candor. "I'm more grateful than I can say to have Tabitha back in my life and with the last few months of my retainer; Tabitha and I could live in the magical parts of the Muggle City of Vancouver and use that close proximity to visit my new Halliwell in-laws in California".

"But you can't give-up making wizarding chess sets", Jon said in horror to his apprentice.

"I gave it my best shot and it fell short", Ron said. "So it's time to brush-off this failure, pick myself up and carry on with something else. I'll take part-time work in some other kind of magical business until the retail shops are built. Five years is long enough to find something else to sell. I'm a decent salesman…maybe a charm shop like Tabitha's. Rest assured that I remember all too well that I made a wager open a shop; but what is sold wasn't mentioned…"

"…The wager was about setting up in the winning gate", an entourage-elf added.

"True enough _gentle_ …but have the Irish even tried to fix the railroad issue?" Ron countered hotly "From what I have overheard at the embassy just the other day …the answer is a huge **no**. They have to do environment studies before the first bulldozer moves. The new-seven for their-part, won't even discuss any changes to their side of the gate, stonewalling on the issue. So with zero planned changes in the current arrangement of the building's already constructed inside the settlement; this will reduce the ability to receive grain to what can be carried in a two-wheeled _**Dogcart**_, which will result in…"

"…A railway freight yard is not only a dirty place, it is also the breeding ground for rats", the same elf in the back said smugly.

"Oh great, clean streets is more important to your nobility; than feeding it's starving population", Ron countered too physically weak to be diplomatic.

"He knows"…was the repeated mutter from the entire entourage.

"Of course I know; why did you think, that I pushed (so hard) for rail lines and _railway wagon_ unloading stations in one addendum after another." Ron said in a clearly stressed-out voice

"Do all humans know?" An Amazon said as she half drew her sword.

"The Americans do; of course," Ron said weakly too ill to care about elf pleasantries. "Who do you think has been supplying you-lot with increasing amounts of grain…for last five years? If it is of any comfort to you; as far as I know; the magical Irish are as clueless as the elf planners were for the _fourteen_…who deliberately deemphasized the need for rail infrastructure on the elf side of the gate, here in Ireland. You have traitors among you; Milady. The _fourteen-faction_, will lose no sleep over starving your people as long as three of them are the next to sit on the _**golden thrones**_."

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"The translator is indeed gravely ill to speak openly of matters that do not concern a mere human", Dame Ellen said stiffly after a moment of awkward silence. None of the other elves dared to say a word. She denied nothing but social custom had been grossly violated. The forbidden subject of the _fourteen_ was off-limits; precisely because they were very-well connected socially and were far richer than the combined wealth of the - _**three royals-**_.

"We knew that retaining his new _Head of Household_ presence for this delicate conversation was a prudent decision", Dame Ellen said with forced wisdom. "First off; young lady, you need to attend to the translator's current delirium; for he has clearly spoken of matters that are **way-above** his social station. The many noble factions of the **Realm** are at peace with one another and always will be. So the less said about our internal politics…which are no concern of the human race; the better".

"Let us turn our attention instead to more relevant and pressing matters" Dame Ellen pressed-on sternly. "We have heard it discussed; within our hearing, that while serving the needs of the _**Three Royals**_ in rightful priority over his personal affairs. That our loyal servant has allowed his business and primary source of income to fall into ruin? It has been reported to us that that the translator's treasury is nearly empty…can this be true? Are both your houses now facing survival by living hand to mouth?"

Tabitha looked to Ron in a near state of panic, as Ron reached over and grabbed his jet-black frock-coat, reached into the inside pocket for his Gringotts bank-book. - "Speak to the point and only the truth" Ron said weakly as he handed over the only record he had…of all his income and expenditures since the fire. Tabitha looked down at the bank book and then slowly opened it, looking over the registry carefully, taking note of deposits and withdraws before glancing hard at the bottom-line",

"What is the delay…answer our question; girl", Dame Ellen snarled.

"Forgive me Milady, but I only became the head of my household yesterday, and my breeder has only just-now turned over his treasury".

"Only now…oh, then that's understandable, human females are not use to taking control of their households. Males must be liberated of the mundane issues of life; like the paying the bills so as meditate on higher moral issues that confront us all." Dame Ellen said to the open approval of her entire entourage including two male elves.

"Well Milady, I can say with just a preliminary scan of my breeder's treasury that he has indeed spoken truth. His attempts to sell his wizarding chess sets through catalog sales both here in Ireland and the United Kingdom have been particularly unsuccessful".

"I was unaware of this _catalog method_ of sales…what does it intail?" Dame Ellen asked.

"It means sales through the owl-post; Milady", Ron explained wearily. "The customer sees an advertisement in a magazine and then requests a catalog of available product from me; by owl-post mail. They then make his/her selection and send the payment and receives his selection all by owl-post mail."

"Show me this" Dame Ellen commanded. And Ron gathered himself and said; "Tweaky"

"Yes master" the elf said a moment after she appeared.

"Bring an advertisement copy and a catalog and give them both to the High-born Lady." Ron said feebly.

"Yes master", Tweaky replied as she popped out of sight.

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End transmission

888888…for now


	14. Chapter 14

Be careful what you wish for 14

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; to the point where I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

Category: AU = alternate universe PH = Post Hogwarts but with epilog deleted

In other words; it takes place **after** J. K. Rowland's – infamous February 8th 2014 bomb-shell.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

**Authors rant: **every good story requires a villain, can you guess mine? Someone who motivates the main character to improve as a person, a good thing - - yes?, Often in FanFiction; Ron's misbehavior or out-right-abuse is used as a plot device to justified Hermione's dumping him for Harry or Draco. Evil or dark Harry FanFiction is out there (go look) so is it so odd to find a tale that takes Grangers less than admirable traits (in cannon) to an extreme?"

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**Setting:** A continuation of the scene set in the lounge of the flat shared by Neville Longbottom and Ronald B. Weasley…it is mid-morning and the day after the last meeting of the once golden trio. A trio reduced to a duo due to the third member being banished from history and memories of nearly all within the U.K.; for the unforgivable crime of being in love with a girl that only had eyes for the Chosen-One.

The stress of the months of negotiations and the consequences of assumed failures on the one person envoy of the mighty Elves had caused Ron to briefly become unglued. This was not the first time that Ron had been emotionally beaten into the ground, and like every other occasion when similar things had happened to him; pushing him to the edge of personal ruin…Ron had picked himself-up, dusted him-self off and carried-on. He was now starting over for the fourth time in eight years, He was back on his feet again and although nearly penniless, he was ready for another go…at life.

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Places everyone…Roll Film…action!

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At the very same instant that Tweaky popped back into the lounge with a catalog in hand…four extra-large steamer-trucks that appeared to have been made in the mid 1890's…slowly faded into existence off to one side of the lounge (near the kitchen) . Although Tweaky was not distracted by the golden glow that surrounded the steamer trucks as they appeared, everyone else turned their heads to watch their arrival.

"Behold; the first of many tokens of appreciation for what you have done in our service", Dame Ellen said proudly to Ron, sounding extra pleased with her-self. "Inside these trunks are a wardrobe specially made for the new head of your household, as a replacement for the sub-standard clothing she lost during the fire".

"Sub-standard, my foot", muttered Tabitha to her-self in a mildly irritated tone causing Ron to touch her arm to still this soft protest.

"Yes sub-standard, but not in style; of course…but rather in the materials employed. We simply cannot allow you to attend the royal court wearing such shabby materials", Dame Ellen said in all seriousness.

"COURT?" Both Ron and Tabitha declared at the same time.

"Why yes…of course. The treaty is ready".

"But certainly Milady has been authorized to sign on behalf of the _**three royals**_?" Ron protested.

"We are authorized to sign the preliminaries; however to make this colony fully legal…requires the approval of both North American governments and the signatures of the _**three royals**_", Dame Ellen said firmly. "Naturally; to carry such a document to our capital requires a proper escort and appropriate ceremony. We have envisioned a thousand troops, support personal and perhaps even a private train".

"The delicacy of the political situation being what it is…with our many- _**opposing political factions**_ –so precariously balanced on the tip of a knife", Dame Ellen continued. "The _**three-royals**_ will simply not permit…any faction to gain any imagined advantage over the others, by claiming the honor to carry and present this historically vital-treaty to the three royals…for final signature. Therefore to avoid to seemingly '_favor_' any one noble house; the _**three royals**_ have chosen you for the honor of bringing the treaty to them. Normally the Nine would gather together to carry this important document, but current circumstances make that honor…impossible".

"Me; high-born, that cannot be", Ron said nearly gob smacked.

"This is not open to discussion, translator", Dame Ellen said in a tone that would **not** tolerate any argument. "It is obvious to us that Jonathan has taught you many things that are beyond your lowly station in life, but it is far too late to stuff that **Orc** back in its box. Besides; we members of the many royalist factions, have greatly benefited by your- _out of the box_ -knowledge of our _**Realm**_".

"With that said; we can tell you in confidence and with absolute certitude that the squabbling over the reopening the Vancouver gate has been intense. We cannot give you details for it is not a human concern, but we can tell you that this bickering has been the main-reason behind the lack of decision, concerning the composition of the _elf-portion_ of your negotiation team. An overwhelming majority of the nobility clearly wants this treaty, but the opposition is not without their monetary influences".

"Once the preliminaries of the treaty are finally signed, will you open the gate from your side?" Ron asked urgently nearly overwhelmed by what he had gotten himself into. "I have been reliably informed that the freight-yard on the human side of the gate is filled to overflowing with heavy machinery and building materials".

"The human side is eager to begin…are they?" Dame Ellen said absentmindedly as she browsed through the catalog that Tweaky had given her.

"Yes Milady, as you acknowledged…the clock is counting down", Ron replied as a huge rock seemed to have appeared in his stomach over the thought of going to the elf capital. The treaty was ready and whatever mistakes that he had obviously made, were now beyond retrieval. For good or ill…the deed was done. This talk of sending him to the elf royal court on the other-hand had to be a huge misunderstanding somehow. Surly Dame Ellen intended on personally take the treaty to the capital".

"We know that you have pressed hard for priority to be give to rail serviced warehousing…do you think the humans will do what you asked …we inquire about this **only** out of idle curiosity, as what is build first is of little concern to us", Dame Ellen asked casually as if changing the subject, but Tabitha detected a desperate edge to the inquiry. Thankfully; Ron by now had recovered his wits enough to answer appropriately.

"I cannot say with any certitude, as we humans are so unpredictable; however, I have overheard in passing that several railway wagons worth of agricultural products are on a siding, awaiting delivery. The human ambassador Davis was kind enough to arrange it for me, knowing of my near total addiction to fresh bread and vegetables."

"Yes; we were aware of your yearnings for such things" Dame Ellen said with a sigh of relief, "But are you sure you have enough?"

"Yes Milady…more than enough for the short term. But as you already know how much I enjoy my bread and steamed vegetable, perhaps I should request additional deliveries…in Muggle built heavy trucks. I know these machines are loud and smelly; but the aroma of bread fresh out of the oven, cannot be denied. The main problem is cost, as my treasury is near empty..."

"…please forgive my breeder; he is human and therefore naturally troubled about things, that shouldn't concern him", Tabitha interrupted smoothly. "I will be happy to pledge the credit of our combined households to see to it that there is fresh bread on any table, where it is needed".

"That will not be necessary. The nobility of the elves; due to a recent slew of purely peaceful demonstrations, concerning this issue, has brought-about a most unusual consensus among all but the most extreme factions within our always peaceful tri-Dominium. The recently concluded _Special Conclave of our nobility_ (emergency parliament) called by the three royals…ended with a new source of revenue going directly into the royal treasury. We therefore are in a position to offer to '_our special ambassador'_ a bottomless purse to cover any expense involving in the implementation of his delivery truck suggestion".

"You've had food riots", Jon said aloud what Tabitha and Ron were both thinking.

"Jonathan!" Dame Ellen shouted in a rare display of outrage.

"The one thing that drove me mental over the eighty plus years of working for you elves…was your annoying habit of '_ignoring the elephant in the room',_" Jon said in an irritated tone. "How in hell; is Ron going to know how hard to push his table bread issue with the Yanks, if you keep him in the dark about what's going on beyond the containment wall."

"Jon we see your point, really we do. But tradition and custom has tied our hands…we cannot directly discuss the internal affairs of the woodland Realm with humans", Dame Ellen said in an exasperated tone. "So as we have done for the last eighty years, we must continue to speak in 'generalities' with total-faith in your ability to read between the lines".

"Therefore; all we are permitted to say, is that the tri-Dominium of the Realm is united with the all-but unanimous consent of ninety-percent of our peaceful nobility in its support of the Human colony project. The addendums that have been pushed so hard by our unsupported ambassador combined with a few demonstrations back-home…that went wrong; has forced many factions to finally notice…the elephant that Jon has just mentioned".

"Seriously, Milady; considering the feelings on trade of those factions behind the fire at Vancouver, I can hardly believe that **only** ten percent of your nobility still opposes the Human colony. Therefore; I can't possibly travel to your capital; I'll never survive the journey".

"You're perhaps referring to the knife attack? Rest assured that your desire to travel to the human city of Vancouver would be even more hazardous", Dame Ellen said, "as certain factions from within our nobility wish to use you as the scapegoat for the Irish gate's clearly-apparent failure".

"That's ridiculous", Jon said from his portrait. "So what you're really **NOT** saying is that the opposition is doing the blame game in an attempted distraction…so that no one will notice that the anti-trade factions have united with the _fourteen_."

"They are fundamentally opposites in goals that much is true enough, but as you say; those that oppose this trade deal, are getting desperate." Dame Ellen conceded graciously. "The good news is that the _**three royals**_ are unusually untied on this issue. The other side is spending gold like crazy, but the overwhelming majority of the nobility; which had been ignoring the seriousness of the situation; prior to the street demonstrations, have finally realized…some of the things…that our Translator has also eluded too, during his current delirium".

"Alright, I'll go, just see to it that my death is not in vain", Ron said in a resigned tone.

"No…you misunderstand your standing among our nobility. I assure you that both your head of household and you will be safe from harm on your way to the capital; for you have earned the openly expressed; personal protection of the _**three royals**_, for services already rendered. To hurt either of you or your families and friends…including Mr. Longbottom, due his connection to your blood-sister…would automatically be considered an act of insurrection against the- _**three royals**_ -which would trigger the remaining nobility to go to war against the _old seven_ and their allies…a war they know all too well, that they could not possibly win".

"Which reminds us, of yet another issue that was passed over earlier; do you really feel that the red-headed human female is trainable? We were not pleased to learn from you, that our hereditary translator licenses are now in the hands of those who have no knowledge of the elves or Elvish. We dispatched several Amazons undercover '_dressed as human females'_ into your world to determine the truth of the matter…and it was discovered that the oldest had already died _without passing on his skill_, with the other eldest translator soon will be joining him in the afterlife without a trained heir.

"The other six are no better, Milady" Ron said honestly.

"Yes; so it has been reported to us", Dame Ellen replied with regret. "We have informed the _**three royals**_ at court about the problem and that has caused (naturally) yet another huge political crisis; as the number of our political factions that wanted to name and train the replacements for the **eight** greatly exceeded the number of available positions".

"I knew it! It's like I said to my master; that the deadlocked elf nobility would be unable to decide what to do", Ron said sounding delighted that as a chess player he had predicted all this.

"Yes-yes you're very clever and what pray-tell is your solution?" Dame Ellen asked politely.

"Forgive my apprentice Milady", Jon interjected from his picture frame. "But Ron and I have discussed this issue after my apprentice first learned the disparity of properly trained translators from the Americans; but as the licensed position is a hereditary one. What possible consul can he offer, as technically your hands are tied".

"Not so Jonathan"; Dame Ellen softly pointed-out. "The Vancouver _**seven**_ kept their Govern-ships in spite of their incompetence and massive grafts because however-poorly…they were still doing the work mandated by the three royals. The mandate of the '_**Nine'**_ involved passing on the duties of translator to their successors so that the skill would not die. Although you have clearly done that brilliantly with your heir…perhaps even surpassing his master in talent, the other eight have not. The failure to do what is mandated cancels the licenses of the others.

"Which still makes it's a Royals problem…does it not?" Jon asked respectfully.

"Not necessarily"; Dame Ellen replied in good humor. "Our translator has done so well during his first royal commission, much to the delight of the vast majority of our nobility. It was decided during the- _**Special Conclave of Nobility**_ -that after our servant's has completed his second commission to ensure the free flowing of his bread to any empty table. His third commission will be…"

"…Once the gate is open I'm reasonably certain that the Americans will focus on the south end of the map which is the bulk produce transfer point", Ron interrupted rudely in a tone that indicated that the he was starting to feel the growing stress of this situation. "My worry is centered on the different gages used by human and elf railways, Has anything been done to repair the elven warehousing and rolling stock destroyed by the fire?"

"Master translator, I mean…really! We have not been… idle; while the treaty was being worked out", Dame Ellen said tolerantly for she too noticed her translator's disquiet. "The containment wall is up and the full garrison posted…five full regiments of Amazons. The gate guards are all in place; as are the parallel unloading docks for the transference of- '_your bread_' -from human railway-wagons and into ours. There also has been a considerable increase in the number of rail lines that come out of the southern-part of the colony; just as you suggested. We have even incorporated the note you sent us; concerning building docks along the south side of the river; for barge traffic into the interior"

"Barge traffic …you never mentioned barge traffic?" Jon asked with Tabitha sharing his surprise.

"Well yes, sorry about that", Ron said in embarrassment so pronounced that his ears turned bright red. "but in my own defense you're expanded colony map (five times bigger) had to go in one of two directions in **Elf territory**; one of which would have enveloped both sides of a river that use to sit just south of the old containment wall. It was both wide and deep enough to use as an _elf variation_ of the European river traffic system. So I shifted your map to include the river running through the colony; dissecting it. The river now separates the freight yard /warehousing areas from the living and small shop sections on the far bank. A few rodents repelling spells on the bridges across the river…will tremendously reduce the old rat problem"

Jon and Tabitha was gob smacked into silence at this unexpected news. More importantly it got Tabitha thinking of a way to replenish Ron's treasury.

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"As we were about to say"; Dame Ellen said as she resumed speaking. "Your third commission with us will be to recruit and train the next eight translators, free of any influence by our nobility". Ron heard this and shuddered in fresh dread unable to speak.

"Milady: there is no way that my apprentice can complete two additional commissions in the couple of months remaining in his original retainer", Jon said strongly in protest.

"Jonathan is correct Milady, what you ask can't be done within the current retainer and at the wage level already agreed to", Tabitha interjected firmly.

"As the head of the Weasley/Greensmith household, what do you propose?"

"Well first thing, my breeder has been heavily abused under his current retainer", Tabitha said forcefully as she took charge while Ron struggle with this latest blow to his hope for a quiet life out of the public eye. "As I understand it…he was hired by Milord Gladwin as a consultant to the elves, but his has been used to the point of emotional breakdown…in the sole capacity of ambassador/negotiator to the human race, a title that you have acknowledged and for which he has not been properly compensated".

"Serving the _**three royals**_ is a privilege", one of the elves in the back sternly pointed out

"True enough _gentle_, but that privilege comes with enormous estates that generate income and titles, none of which have been forthcoming", Tabitha countered.

"I have been told of promised land within the new Vancouver settlement, construction cost and furnishing all done by the Americans?" another elf in the back pointed out.

"Two objections to that '_gentle born'_," Tabitha countered with Jon looking-on very pleased at how well Ron had trained his future bride. "Human promises for five years from now are not to be trusted and secondly; if my household must depend on human generosity to put a roof over my head and bread on our table…does it not follow that my breeder's loyalty belongs to whoever pays their servants the best?"

"He is with us, naturally",

"In personal leaning that is true", Tabitha replied and then she paused for a minute before continuing, "For the remaining months of the retainer…naturally!"

"You bargain like a common shop-keeper", the elf in the back snarled.

"Thank-you _gentle_", Tabitha replied with a smile. "That's what I am."

"We had the right of retainer renewal",

"That was for occasional consultation only and not as the sole teacher of all the translators assigned to both gates",

"Both gates?" one of the elves mumbled in a worried tone.

"Of course, it is obvious to me that you have no real intention of closing the Irish gate because it would upset how much all your nobility loves each other. So we are talking after Ron wins his wager…especially if he can get **his** bread and vegetables through the gate and inland to anyone who might be hungry…before the snow starts to fall", Tabitha pressed.

"We offer and increase to five thousand in wizarding gold per-month…for a period of ten years", Dame Ellen.

"Surely Milady jests," Tabitha said with a polite chuckle. "I can get more than that from the Americans to server them…just as a part-time consultant".

"What do you want?"

"Ten for ten" Tabitha said flatly

"Too much"

"Eight for eight with a single renewal offer for the same time period" Tabitha retorted.

"Eight for ten with unending renewals, combined with appropriate wage increases as time moves on."

"I might accept that offer," Tabitha said." If **my** Ron receives a substantial bonus for all he has already done in your service. For even the elves must recognize the magnitude of what my Ron has done for you. Secondly; all wining aspects of Ron's wager are to be fully met and the _**three royals**_ must guarantee the same land-grant and construction costs as the Americans…with the shop located with a store front that faces one of the garden/play parks that old Jonathan included on his map. I intend to have children and they shall need a safe place to play".

"Are human children allowed in the colony?", an elf in the back asked sounding unhappy.

"Yes Milady", Ron said finally speaking up, "I specifically included that in several addendums to the treaty that were signed off on by both sides. I'm a Weasley and I love the thought of Hugo and Rose having a safe/clean place to play under the watchful eyes of Tweaky".

"You've accepted the names?" Tabitha asked smiling big.

"Sure; can you endure a Weasley summer-wedding at the _**Burrow**_?"

"This year…in just under three months?, Yeah…sure thing" Tabitha replied blushing.

"Hold on we aren't finished yet with the wages issue", Jonathan objected. "Ron hasn't said anything yet."

"Oh, I have no say on such issues; master", Ron said with a respectful bow toward his masters magical painting. "Do you not remember what you taught me? As a male…I don't deal with such mundane things, I leave money matters to the female head of my household, although if I may add a tiny suggestion to the third commission"

"Go-on", Tabitha said firmly as if pretending to be upset at her mate for concerning him-self about money… a sight of which greatly amused Dame Ellen.

"A two thousand a month stipend paid by the _**three royals**_ for all license seeking apprentices…to pay for room, board and pocket money while under instruction. This stipend doubles after the apprenticeship successfully ends; for a period of four years…at which time wages will be renegotiated to reflect knowledge gained and experience. I leave the wage for any elf instructors to the elf nobility to settle".

"Milady", Tabitha asked acting mildly annoyed at this untimely interruption.

"We accept the addendum suggestion to the third commission", Dame Ellen declared. "So that we are clear in our understanding; a heavy bonus paid by the crown for services already rendered, payable with thirty-days with the '_type of bonus'_ to be negotiated later. Eight thousand in wizarding gold per-month for a period of ten years; All wining aspects of translator's wager fully met at once…and we guarantee the same land-grant and construction costs of a block the shops located with all store fronts facing one of the garden/play parks that old Jonathan included on his map".

"But let us speak more on my new training assignment", Ron interjected as his mind and soul fully embraced this new task. I could finish out the treaty commission while at the same time giving Bonnie and Tabitha a three month crash-course in elvish language basics, which would conveniently make my-self and my new translator apprentices available to the Irish; if the magical environmentalist nutters over here…ever allow them to do anything construction-wise on the human side of the gate before winter sets in. As Milady has pointed out; there is no rush for me to move back to Vancouver, when the gate there; only opens today."

"We will happily concede that we elves have been most frustrated by the total lack of movement on the part of the magical Irish", Dame Ellen said. "You plan has obvious merit, as we will require some time to talk our _human-enthusiast_ 'friend' into taking-on this assignment. We will also have to negotiate for her fee. However, let's get back to Miss Wright education she will only bring the number up to two. The _**three royals**_ were hoping for more from you", Dame Ellen said.

"Well actually my household will hold onto two of the **Nine Licenses**, with Bonnie eventually holding the third. As I foresee at least two children being brought-up to replace my wife and me at some point. I don't want any squabbling over the single license".

"And the other seven?" Dame Ellen

"That will come in good time Milady, but if training new translators is my third commission and everything else is settled peacefully once the treaty is signed. Perhaps I should ask Tweaky to pack-up my kit…and acquire a magical tent for me to live in; while doing my baking of bread duties?"

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"By Merlin's beard I say _Hold-on a minute_ , I didn't spend six years teaching Ron how to make wizarding chess-sets just to have him throw that skill into the bin and sell caldrons or something else…Dammit?" Jon snarled hotly. "Doesn't the woodland realm owe me anything for all my years of service?"

"Master I thought I had already explained", Ron said reasonably. "I've tried to make a go of the chess-set business through catalog sales and failed. I **can't** use your name to push my products here among Humans; because your relatives won in court. Besides; the majority of your customers were elves and that market is closed to me…for at least the next five to ten years".

"Not necessarily", Dame Ellen said softly as she finished looking at the catalog that Tweaky had given her earlier. "Have you sent any of these; catalog thingamabobs into the _**Realm**_ of the elves?"

"No Milady, both gates are presently closed to any-kind of human traffic; including any use of your postal system", Ron replied.

"That is true…mere humans are barred from all parts of the _**Realm**_" Dame Ellen said as she sat there…catalog in hand, carefully considered her next move. A few minutes later she emerged from her musings and interrupted a volume restrained three way '_conversation/argument'_ between a magically animated dead master, his living apprentice and his American future bride. Having made up her mind she then turned to a member of her entourage and said in an aside;

"Take this catalog thingy and have it copied as many times as is required and then distribute it to every single noble family in the entire realm. Also; put this advertisement in all newspaper and magazines in the Woodland Realm".

"But Milady…for how long should we let the advertisement run and who will pay for all this?"

"In the name of Jonathan Veselkin's sixty years of loyal service to the three royals…our family will be happy to absorb the costs…in the form of a loan, until the Translator can repay us.

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"Milady is too kind", Tabitha said humblely. "The elf market has been off-limits to us since the fire and we are not opposed to trying again to sell there. As head of the Weasley/Greensmith household I pledge our combined tresury to repay this loan. Especially in light of the fact that part of Ron's wager was the exclusive license to sell all wizarding chess sets inside of the **realm**, either directly or by sub-contracting commission".

"You negotiated an absolute monopoly to sell chess sets to the elves?" Jon asked utterly gob smacked in surprise as he stared hard at Ron.

"Yes master, but that wasn't to take effect until after I opened up my **wager** shop, and that outcome might end-up being here in Ireland and could take many years to pull off", Ron explained to the portrait. "That was my original plan, but with Tabitha showing up and wanting to share her life with me changed all that drastically; especially when my new head of household renegotiated my retainer".

Tabitha and Dame Ellen both nodded their heads in agreement to what Ron was saying; and the magically animated image of old-Jon was greatly mollified by the news. Tabitha then turned to her future spouse and said; "Ron please explain to me in more detail your plans for Bonnie".

"Right from the off; I'd say that we need to train Miss Wright right here…in Dublin", Ron replied sounding more sure of himself as he stepped-up to this new problem. "I'm sure that Milady knows of someone who makes an intense hobby of studying us humans, without being a total mental…a semi-outcast who would agree to teach a human while living on this side of the gate".

"I see, that way our law is not violated…good thinking. But are you sure that you want Miss Bonnie and not the Byrne creature?"

"Most assuredly, I believe that the Byrne woman would be too argumentative to learn anything easily", Ron replied.

"I assume the same thing especially applies to the Granger?" Dame Ellen asked.

"You know about her?"

"Of course I told her about your former abuser and what she did to you", Jon admitted from his portrait frame.

"That is an interesting way to describe her, I guess", Ron admitted. "She and Byrne both have the intelligence to become a great at anything they set their minds too…however their _**know-it-all already, conceit**_ combined with long-term ambitions within the human world…are incompatible with the dedication required".

"But why do you need an elf to come and live here (Dublin)?" Dame Ellen asked with genuine curiosity.

"Right from the off; there is the law. Secondly, as no living arrangements are allowed within the elf side of the Irish gate, there is therefore no way for Bonnie's education to take place within the Woodland Realm unless she comes with Tabitha and me to Vancouver. Thirdly; I want her out of the cheap-hotel where her government has her living and finally. I believe that the flat that I will soon no longer share with Mr. Longbottom, which is already furnished with the comfort of Elves in mind; would be an ideal teaching environment".

"You and Mr. Longbottom are moving out?" one of the elves in the back asked with clearly mixed feelings.

"Not right away; but for me and Tabitha at least (if she wants to go) I will be spending the end of my first commission (approximately two months) in Vancouver, expediting bread deliveries. After that certainly, yes; _gentles_, the _**head of my household**_ and I require a residence without ten invisible Amazons underfoot in our lounge all the time", Ron said drolly. "Besides if I am to continue as your sole ambassador living in your Irish consulate long-term is clearly undoable".

"Whether or not we seek another flat close to this one is still unclear and depends on how quickly Bonnie can pick-up the basics. Teaching the alphabet and grammar of elvish is relatively easy for someone with a good ear and who doesn't argue with everything I do. But word for word doesn't work in elvish; '_nine times out ten'_ as Dr. Byrne discovered to her regret. The hard part for Bonnie will be learning the cultural cornerstones for elvish.

"I don't understand", Tabitha said sounding puzzled.

"Do you remember the _strider jammer_?" Ron explained. "It doesn't directly translate into English because humans haven't been rangers for _thousands and thousands_ of years. Hermione Granger can't cope with that kind of inconsistency. In her world view two plus two must equal four. No magical creature not in one of her books could possibly exist. Like the French do not have a direct translation for the English word **Jumbo**, when it describes an airplane for it is a cultural cornerstone reference to a circus elephant that was huge…doesn't fit with the French experience".

"And you'll be teaching me and Bonnie these cultural cornerstones in elvish", Tabitha asked.

"Yes dearest. Over the course of years I will make the puzzle of the elves and elvish make sense for you, as we set up shop beyond the Vancouver gate. Bonnie will need a similar Elf born instructor to teach her that here in Ireland. And that way both gates will be covered".

"So if I understand you", Dame Ellen said summing up. "Each gate will have its own licensed translator and if Miss Wright in future finds herself in any difficulty…"

"I'm only a commercial pork-key away", Ron replied with the customary bow.

"Simply brilliant", one of the elves in the back of Milady's entourage declared; with nods of agreement from all of the others.

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"Just then there was a knock on the front door and ten previously invisible Amazons popped into view with swords drawn. Two of the normal ten were missing.

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Cut, check the gate… print that

End transmission…for now

Only one or two to go to the end

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	15. Chapter 15

Be careful what you wish for 15

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; to the point where I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

Category: AU = alternate universe PH = Post Hogwarts but with epilog deleted

In other words; it takes place **after** J. K. Rowland's – infamous February 8th 2014 bomb-shell.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

**Setting:** The lounge of the flat shared by Neville Longbottom and Ronald B. Weasley…it is mid-morning and the day after the last meeting of the once golden trio. A trio reduced to a duo due to the third member being banished from history and memories of nearly all within the U.K.; for the unforgivable crime of being in love with a girl that only had eyes for the Chosen-One.

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88888 flashbacks

"Just then there was a knock on the front door and eight previously invisible Amazons popped into view with swords drawn. Two of the normal ten were missing.

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Roll Film

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"Calm down please, before you start a war…take a moment and consider", Ron said carefully. "We are actually expecting guests, the Americans. If they are beyond that door, we are minutes away from opening the Vancouver gate and starting a human colony. If instead we have been in fact; betrayed by two Elf bodyguards assigned to protect my lounge, who you might have noticed are missing. Then there is a distinct possibly that hired assassins with no direct (provable) connection to the _fourteen_, are on the other side of my lounge door. In which case the first battle of the Elf civil-war is about to begin. In either event; our main concern is that no harm is to come to Milady". And with that said Ron gingerly got up from the sofa before slowly moving toward the lounge's outer door; as Dame Ellen's entourage and the eight Amazons silently moved in-between their lady and the door.

Adrenalin was pumping in Ron's veins again like during the war. As he gathered his magic, his hands began to glow blue. A strange calm overcame him as he prepared to face death again. Stress fell from his shoulders as he prepared to fight. His hand reached out and then…time abruptly stopped. When time unfroze again, Ron found Tabitha standing directly in front of him between the door and him-self. "What in hell do you think you're doing?" She asked with both hands firmly planted on her hips, looking sternly down her nose at Ron.

"I had forgotten that you had inherited the ability to freeze time. Although this is perhaps, the very first time you've ever used it on me. As to my intention, why I purpose to open the door, of course", Ron said sweetly. "As we have visitors"

"You are not going to make me a widow before you make me a bride. Have one of the Amazons open the door", Tabitha snarled.

"Perhaps you're right, things could get ugly; rather-fast", Ron countered thinking it over. "Besides I have a better idea…Tweaky?"

"Yes master" the tiny elf said after popping instinctively into the room.

"Tweaky; as I recall, you can see through walls…or at least through a closed door as you did when David and Scarlett came to call".

"Yes master", the elf answered humbly.

"Who is beyond the door, right now? Anyone you recognize?" Tabitha asked in an excited tone.

"No one I'd see before; great-Lady Weasley", Tweaky said with great difference to Tabatha who smiled at her new title. "There-be eight wizards with wands drawn, beyond the door; with another fourteen in the stairwell going down to street level…poised to strike. Hearing this, the eight Amazons moved forward as one with hands glowing blue and swords at the ready.

"No…no, we are too out-numbered to fight, which means your first duty as soldiers of the _**realm**_…is to safeguard Milady; by getting her out of here at once", Ron commanded and oddly enough these female warriors actually began to obey a human male.

"We say, Hold", Dame Ellen ordered. "If there are hired assassins beyond that door, then winning this battle boils down to bringing superior hex-power to bear".

"Yes Milady, that's usually the ticket", Ron said. "But the odds are heavily against us. I cannot risk an incident that might start a war between humans and elves. Superior elvan magical power doesn't change the fact that our side will lose this fight. To prevent a war…you Milady and your entire non-military entourage, have to get out of this; right now!"

"Your hands are glowing", Dame Ellen said casually looking down with a knowing smile.

"Yes Milady, I haven't used a wand in four years, I can't even remember if I took it out of the settlement with me. All I have now to defend my-self is a little elf magic my master taught me", Ron said as the pounding on the outer-door became louder. "I do know of a protective spell that will hold-off our attackers at bay; at least long-enough for all of you to escape, and I all I ask for this service…is that you allow Tweaky to take Tabitha and the other house-elves out of here".

"NO way in hell will I leave you to face twenty hired killers alone", Tabitha said in a not to be argued-with tone.

"It still boils down to magical power…doesn't it?" Dame Ellen said thoughtfully.

"The rest of you leave us" Milady commanded. "All of you go except for Elrond, my third great-nephew."

"But Milady", her entire entourage protested along with the eight Amazons.

"Do as we command…and take the human female with you", Dame Ellen said sternly. "But do not go far; this issue will be handled shortly by the translator and our-self. Return when we summon you", before Tabitha could offer an objection there was a huge golden glow and they were all gone…which utterly stunned Ron by the speed of their obedience.

"Tweaky…hex the outer-wall against entry", Dame Ellen said as she slowly withdrew a very familiar tiny box from her robes.

"Yes great-one" Tweaky replied and with a wave of her tiny hands…which glowed briefly in the exact same blueness as Ron's hands; a blue glow that expanded from a single spot to cover the walls and doorway in a protective barrier; that the house-elf then with difficultly kept in place.

"You should have never returned to us…the white-ring: **Nenya**", Dame Ellen said in a trembling voice. "It was the most powerful of the three and no elf since '_Galadriel of Lothlorien_' has been able to resist the temptation to use it to rule all Elves. We hid them away (all three) for the longest time; making the strongest of our families; the guardians of the rings…until we reconnected with the humans in the West. Our home beyond the gate, the Woodland Realm is for us the _Undying lands_ of old. To safeguard my people against the- _ring of adamant_ -we then gave-over Galadriel's treasure to our most trusted servant; Jonathan, for save-keeping…after he did something above and beyond for us…about which I cannot speak. No-one within the Realm not-even the- _**three royals**_, knows that we had gotten- **Nenya** -back _not_ _even briefly_ and now we give it back into your safekeeping", Dame Ellen said as with trembling fingers she handed the tiny box back to Ron.

"No Elf can ever use it…the power is too overwhelming, even for us. However, in special circumstances _like this_ we trust you to use it (only this once) against those attacking your home", Dame Ellen said as she reluctantly let go of the tiny (unopened) box into Ron's open palm; before gently folding his fingers over it.

"Don't try anything complicated or you risk blowing-up an entire block of human buildings. A simple elvish stunning spell should do the trick and render them unconscious, and then use a second spell to bind them all securely…for your law-enforcers to take away later".

"But listen carefully; once you have done what is needed, just two spells, and no more. The hardest task will then follow. For once the attack is stopped; we command you to remove the ring immediately…_before its power becomes too addictive_…and takes control of you. We believe that you have the inner strength required to do this. Once off…you must **never put it on again**. Place it in a hidden spot in the frame of Old Jon's magical portrait…a spot which our nephew Elrond will craft. Only we four will know of its hiding place. Do-this with all speed; for the removal of **Nenya** will drain you. When you next wake-up; speak to no-one about all this…not even your beloved head of your house-hold. We command you; '_Keep it hidden…keep it safe'_."

"Yes Milady". Ron said as he opened the box and slipped onto his finger; a ring made of white mithril with a white stone/diamond at its high point. A wave of warmth combined with a ten-fold feeling of magical power washed over him. Ron shook his head to shake away this unexpected giddiness as he slowly raised his hand to cast the spell.

"Tweaky, please lower your barrier". Ron mumbled as he tried to control the massive power he felt coursing through him.

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Twenty minutes later

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Tabitha and the elf entourage returned to the lounge to find- _only part_ -of the outer hallway wall still intact, the upper-half was blasted away from powerful spells cast from the outside of the flat…spells too numerous to count. Large parts of the hallway-wall showed clear signs of fire blackening and was still smoldering in places from the flames that Tweaky was already putting out.

Tabitha took all of this in in the instant before she rushed over to Ron; who was stretched-out unconscious on the floor near the ruins of the old doorway, her deep concern obvious. "What did those bastards do to my Ron", she asked in a tone of barely control rage.

"They tried to kill him, of course", was Milady's reply, "us too by-the-way…and yet once again, as he did before at the reception, our servant stepped-up and saved us from harm. We must contact at once; the - _**three royals**_ \- and make them aware of this second attempt on my life here in your human world and to seek out those from our _**Realm**_ who ordered this outrage. Right-now our servant is exhausted by his latest act of heroics and will need time to recover. We have already dispatched another of his house-elves to summon your magical Irish law-enforcers".

"Furthermore; we have just sent our nephew Elrond directly to the _**three royals**_ with news of this latest attack on us…and we are stunned nearly speechless at this second act of violence against the elves on Irish soil. We wish you to take your breeder to hospital now, before our guests arrive". Dame Ellen said clairvoyantly; mere moments before the North American ambassador; Davis, appeared at the top of a clearly burned-black and ruined-stairway…looking beyond stunned, with Crockett; Byrne, two military-style bodyguards and Miss Bonnie Wright bringing up the rear, all looking equally gob smacked as they gingerly stepped over unconscious bodies.

As things turned out; Tabitha and Ron both missed out on the signing of the treaty preliminaries…as Tabitha was too busy orbing Ron to Dublin's finest magical medical facility to take time to watch.

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FIVE DAYS LATER

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When Ron opened his eyes again the ceiling was painfully too familiar, he doubted he was in the same room…but concluded that he was back in hospital. Looking around carefully, he saw an old-chum sitting in a chair reading the latest copy of- _**Magical Botany**_.

"Oi Nev;" Ron said wearily. "How long was I out this time?"

"Five days total if you count today and from what I've overheard; technically speaking you shouldn't be awake this soon", Neville said as he finally looked up from a book. "The healers here have been amazed at the speed of your recovery. They all think that the elves did something to you…about a hundred and twenty hours odd ago, right after what the magical-media is calling; _**the battle of the flat**_."

"Beyond identifying the flat as belonging to us; they pretty-much kept your name out of the first time elves magically battled against humans. The Papers have gone nutters over that juicy little tidbit; and I can't really blame them. Think about-it… two elves; one of which was clearly elderly and feeble, managed to easily defeat twenty really nasty magical-mercenaries recruited from all over Western Europe. With the only causality reported; an unnamed bystander, which happened…to be you", Neville said with restraint.

"There wasn't a hex-mark on you by the way…beyond the obvious, because when you got to hospital; you were magically drained…and I do mean totally. Even the average Muggle on the street has more magical potential than you did. Your healers thought you'd been hit with something that literally turned you into a squib. And that's how matters stood until about forty-eight hours ago… when there was an abrupt and dramatic uptick in your magical core. Culminating in this morning's testing, this put your magical rating; right off the chart. Almost overnight you went from a squib to the point of literally having enough magic to kick Dumbledore and old Tommie combined arses…without working up a sweat".

"You're pulling my leg", Ron said with a painful chuckle.

"Ronnie, old-chap", Neville said with a small smile. "I've had to fight-off these ruddy-healers…just to keep them from dissecting you as a magical oddity. In the end, the only thing that stopped them was your diplomatic status".

"Diplomatic?"

"You are a full blown Ambassador for the elves…you ruddy-git", Neville said clearly exasperated. "The Irish have been ruddy-frantic about that fact and equally horrified that no less than **two** inter-dimensional incidents have happened here, in Ireland. They stormed in here and put a dozen guards on this floor alone". Neville explained. "But only Merlin-knows if it's to keep danger away from you or to guard against the threat you pose to the Irish; as uber-average wizard extraordinaire. But, hold-on; it gets even better; there are at least two Amazons right-now…in this very room.

"How can you tell?" Ron said instantly dismissing, without comment; any notion that he was in any way…above average, in anything.

"They are invisible of course, but one of them got curious as to what I was reading and leaned over my shoulder to see…"

"…and?" Ron said while arching an eye brow.

"Body-wash, all Amazons use the same; very special body wash, that I recognized from my holiday in the royal prison that you broke me out of."

"Should Ginny feel jealous?" Ron asked sounding mildly amused.

"I…we…I mean, nothing happened in prison…not that I started, anyway", Neville said with growing embarrassment. "I know the ruddy-law. But after the gardener's wife; I had a-tad of a reputation as a desirable lover, and well; some of my guards wanted to see what all the fuss was about…but nothing really happened, beyond several Amazons watching me in the bath and commenting about the size of my…privates. I'm apparently far better equipped than the average male elf; which might explain the interest of the chief-gardeners wife in me. I may be hung like a Clydesdale by their standards, but that don't mean squat in the human world. Believe it or not, your sister is far more…experienced as a lover, than I am."

"Oh I always knew she had the potential for that", Ron explained. "After Potter dumped her, she went a-little mental when it came to men. While you and I was trying to reboot our lives back in idyllic Canada. Dearest Ginerva was working out her self-confidence issues as a young woman; by going through a ton of different blokes".

"Then why is she still with me?" Neville asked. "Why does she refer to all her ex-boyfriends as totally self-absorbed losers?"

"Why ask me?" Ron replied in a genuinely puzzled tone. "If you consider my track record so far…my rotten experiences with women in general and that includes my beloved Tabitha, after I sent her packing. I'm the last one on earth to ask what a woman thinks. Meaning; that to this day; I still don't understand women and fear I never will. Ginny, I am told; went about dating blokes with cunning calculation; like some folks do with cheese or wine tasting; try a sip of this, and that didn't please…then try something different. Mum told me when I first came home; that my sister didn't have a _physical type_; per-se, not after Potter's betrayal".

"Come to think on it", Ron said with an odd smile on his face. "The golden duo of England has apparently cured both Weasley's that came into close personal contact with them. Personally; I was lucky enough to move on to someone like Tabitha (eventually) but it was a long learning process for me to get there…meaning; I went through **a-lot** of Romantic bad fits. Ginny; unlike me…dated all types, tall; short, fat and thin. She was looking for something special, that she never expressed in words and I now think she found it…in you".

"Consider yourself fortunate, old chum; my sister looked a long time to find what she wanted in a man", Ron said in total candor. "In some way you're like me; I guess. We were raised specifically not to strike a woman or take our women for granted in general. Speaking for my-self…I will never feel truly worthy of a- _Charmed One_ – and I guess in the end; that might work-out to be a good thing. I've been on the receiving-end of being taken for granted and verbally abused by someone I deeply loved. If I've learned anything from Hermione…it is not to do to anyone; especially Tabitha, what Granger did to me."

"Did to **us**, old friend", Neville replied. "I fancied her too…once. Odd thing is; your ex-girlfriend tried to pay you a-little visit yesterday, throwing her weight around like the- _Bossy Prefect_ -we both remember so fondly".

"What did she want?" Ron said despairingly

"I wasn't here so this visitation report is purely second hand. Hermione tried to have you - _**put down**_…claiming that you were now a bigger threat to the wizarding world than old-Tommie ever was", Neville said with calculated composure, waiting for the stunned reaction which came only a second later from Ron.

"Put down?" Ron said horrified.

"Executed; like Umbridge did during the war to all those half-bloods or at least incarcerated for life without trial like old Sirius Black", Neville replied. "The Irish don't know how Kingsley's Ministry found-out about what happened here at hospital over the last few days. But Ireland wasn't about to put up with Hermione's trademark-bossiness. They told jolly-old England to go stick their demands where the sun doesn't shine and to leave the internal affairs of Ireland to the Irish".

"When Tabitha told me about Granger showing-up…you could sense her barely controlled rage. I'm surprised she didn't hex Granger out of existence or whatever it is that American witch's do to nice people who turn into demons. She kept telling me _over-and-over_ that you wouldn't approve of- _**banishing**_ -her to someplace nasty and that though kept her anger in check".

"We had a nice long chat about you and her –_as a couple_\- as we shared some alone-time watching over your hospital bed. Tabitha is a great bird and I really like that she can put up with your bullocks. It was during our chats that I found-out, that she thinks that our little-Hermione has a psychotic need to be superior to every male on the planet…especially you; Ron. Tabitha told-me that she literally freaked-out during the lunch she shared with you…just at the suggestion that you had a talent that she didn't."

"What I can't sort-out is why does she still bothers about me anymore?" Ron asked calmly as if discussing a stranger. "I was never worth her time at Hogwarts; I was just a tool she used to gain access to Harry".

"Oh; I don't think she hates you consciously as a person", Neville said knowingly. "When Ginny and would talk about - _all of this_, last night; she told me, that in her opinion; Hermione had forgotten about **all** of us Gryffindor's; as soon as we were no longer useful to her end-game goals. All of us were simply discarded into the bin, as rubbish…like an empty water bottle".

"Means to an end…huh? But if I'm already tossed in the bin, and discarded; why is she back?"

"Don't you see?" Neville answered back with another knowing smile. "You didn't stay rubbish. You're the bloke she always thought of- _right from the off_ -to be a total loser, no use to her at all beyond cannon fodder. However, look at you now…you're a major player in magical world affairs. You speak a language and understand a culture like no other living human-being and that…my-dear friend; makes you a big enough threat to the smartest witch alive to make her want to put-you down, like a sick dog".

"Like I always said; that girl has- _to sort out her priorities_ –one of these days," Ron sadly said with regret.

"Don't count on it happening anytime soon", Neville replied with a snort.

"I don't", Ron said in a dismissive tone. "By the way, the damage to the flat, how long will it take to fix?"

"Already done Ron", Neville replied. "The Irish magical government had it repaired the same day. However; for security reasons we were moved out to a safer location".

"Where and for how long?"

"Well…permanently I imagine. But no worries; you've been moved to a block of old townhouses on a dead end street…that's surrounded by an industrial park on three sides. It's half-way between the I.M.G. (Irish Magical Government)…the _**Reception Hall**_ where - _all of this started_ \- and the Yanks out in the suburbs".

"Across the way from you are three townhouses with the interconnecting walls knocked out; that now serves as the official Ireland embassy for the 'Woodland Realm Elves' and that's where they relocated all the furniture you had once got as a gift", Neville said not at all unhappy about it. "Your side of the lane has another three townhouses of three floors in height; which have all been charmed to be far bigger on the inside than the outside…and all three of them come with a shop built into the basement. The far right has a dinner with your place in the center and the far left has a small grocer…your shop is currently empty.

The elves arranged this…didn't they? Ron asked sounding annoyed.

"Yeah and the Weasley building…is yours- _free and clear_, part of your 'unspecified bonus'; at least that's what Tabitha said", Neville explained. "Bonnie, Ginny and Tabitha have been spending the last few days, shopping for furniture and (btw) your Tabitha declared rather regally; that Ginny and I can temporarily share the top floor of your townhouse…which is step up like a two bedroom flat, until we find a place of our own; while you and Tabitha do the same for the middle floor. All your chess-shop stuff is in the empty store-front".

"You've got me all sorted out I see", Ron said with a sigh. "Okay, I'll back Tabatha on all this until I can speak to her in private. And now let's move-on to other; more important issues. My little sister mentioned to me; just in passing…during my last floo-chat I had with her, when she was in hospital and I was upright and mobile", Ron said to fill a brief and awkward silence. "That you've been looking around for a small farm, far from the hustle and bustle of metro Dublin to set up a magical greenhouse business. This I knew already. However **our** Ginny also told me that she intended to steer you out of our **new** Irish digs …and into buying land back in England…and she actually has a specific place in mind; a long empty cottage and barn right on a bluff; that overlooks the Otter River in Devon. I know the place she means; it's just a short stretch of the legs; _between two or three kilometers,_ away from my family's ancestral home at; Ottery St. Catchpole. Do you wish to confirm or deny any of this?"

"It's true enough. Neville replied. "I had put an offer on the cottage and surrounding lands; the same day you decided to fight- _**twenty against one odds**_".

"Twenty against three" Ron said. "Dame Ellen and Elrond were with me and they did most of the…"

"...Bullocks…don't you even try to sell any of that rubbish to me", Neville interrupted. "I know you of old Ronald Bilius and I know you weren't some collateral-damage…aka innocent bystander that got caught in the ruddy crossfire. You were in the thick-of it and don't bother denying it. Elves are loads more powerful than us humans; everyone knows that. And I've spoken with Jon's portrait and he says you didn't do all that much; however…",

"…Sidekicks never get proper credit for anything", Ron answered back as if this was common knowledge. "Come-on Nev, think-on-it; you rate sidekick status too…just for the gall of standing-up to old Tommie and killing his snake. Two hero maximum, remember; that's all the mob can handle. That's why the common witch and wizard have forgotten about…Remus, Tonks, Lavender, Fred and all the rest".

"It plays better in the media for two heroes or in this case two-elves to do the impossible and defeat all those nasty humans; than wasting any print by mentioning the minor input during the -_**battle of the flat-**_ of a mere human. Besides; you and I had our fifteen minutes of fame, as the **two;** who-did the reception bit".

"I can never tell anyone about what really happened…can I?" Neville asked softly.

"No, sorry about-that", Ron said apologetically. "I'm not at all ashamed about what we did, but the mob, the common wizard; would never understand the cultural complexities that brought about that confrontation".

"And there is loads more to what happened at the flat…isn't there?" Neville asked and Ron just softly smiled and nodded.

"You're not going to tell me any of it…are you?"

"You're safer not knowing and actually…you know right now; as much as anyone ever will", Ron said before changing the subject. "But stop trying to distract me away from being intimidating…during the classic big brother interrogation of the bloke that my Ginny's gotten very serious about. You're not a ruddy- '_one-night stand'_ –to my sister; old-chum. For example…I hope you know exactly- **why** -my sister wants you to buy the old Amos Diggory farm. The family abandoned the place after Cedric was murdered; too many sad memories…or so they said. So the place has been empty for around a decade and is going to need a-lot of fixing-up. So…how do I put this delicately? Ginny has always wanted to be extra-close to my parents and the _**Burrow**_ when time comes to raise her nippers".

"Yes Ron…I know." Neville replied humbly.

"Can you afford it all", Ron asked in a worried tone. "Refurbishing the cottage, barn and the building of several brand-new greenhouses?"

"I believe so. My parents and Grandmother having passed-away…and my other Longbottom kinfolk; didn't fight over my Gran's will like Jon's relatives did with his", Neville explained. "Forgetting all-about the two and one/half year retainer; brought-about as elvish gratuity for the reception incident…that was just paid-out in a lump-sum by-the-way and Jon tells me; _that I have you to thank for that_."

"It still leaves me with a substantial inheritance which will more than cover the start-up cost for my greenhouse business. Your right about it being a- _fixer-upper_, with two months minimum before we can move in…that's why Tabitha's offer is such a god-send for us. Ginny has already been told to vacate her _**Harpies**_ provided flat. But even without a single brass-knut coming-in from what Ginny socked away in Gringotts during her Quidditch career?" Neville explained proudly. "I could lose gold ever year for the next decade and not touch the principle on my inheritance. So yes-Ron, I can support your sister in comfort".

"You've popped the question already?" Ron asked surprised.

"Yes I did, right here in hospital, by your bedside…in fact; I asked her; just the other night".

"And she said?" Ron asked now on pins and needles.

"To my great surprised she said she'd marry me… just to keep me away from adulterous elves"

"Where is my sister; come to think of it?" Ron asked after a loud snort of amusement.

"All of your healers, both human and elf…were convinced that there wasn't even a remote possibility that you'd be waking-up this soon", Neville said seriously. "Therefor; with you allegedly safely in a coma for a at least month…my Ginny felt it was safe to leave me guarding your bedside and have dinner with Tabitha at the _**Burrow**_, tonight…thereby showing off her engagement ring to your parents; while co-conspiring with my future mother-in-law in the planning of our double wedding this summer".

"Double wedding eh? Yeah I can see my Mum going mental over that idea. I'll pay the Greensmith portion, of course; but it's just a social gathering thing for us, for to the elves I am already legally Tabitha's husband/breeder", Ron said.

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Just then a golden glow appeared in one corner of the hospital room and when it faded, Dame Ellen and her entire entourage had return with six additional Amazons making 'themselves' visible in honor of Milady's visit

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Cut, check the gate…print that

End transmission… one left.

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	16. Chapter 16

Be careful what you wish for 16

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; to the point where I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

Category: AU = alternate universe PH = Post Hogwarts but with epilogue deleted

In other words; it takes place **after** J. K. Rowland's – infamous February 8th 2014 bomb-shell.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

_**Author's lament:**_ I was wrong, one more after this.

888888 - Flashback

Just then a golden glow appeared in one corner of the hospital room and when it faded, Dame Ellen and her entourage had return with six additional Amazons making 'themselves' visible in honor of Milady's visit

88888

Neville slowly gained his feet, with every eye on him. The intense dislike he sensed from the male elves came at him like waves washing-up on a beach. "Don't you people understand the concept of knocking before entering a room? If I entered an elf home unbidden it would be considered a gross violation of custom…would it not?"

Several Amazons half-drew their swords in response to this insult; but deep down they knew that the human spoke truth.

"Most amusing; getting a lecture on manners from- _bull Longbottom_" snarled Elrond from behind Milady.

"BULL Longbottom", Ron asked partially puzzled and part amused, but there was a sharp edge behind his outgoing tone.

"Surely the royal translator knows the nickname that the elves use when referring to your best-friend". Elrond replied while Milady said nothing as she sat in the now customary elf-chair that came with her. "It refers to the girth of his baby-maker…of course. I personally find it ironic, that a human banished for life from the – _**Realm -**_ can be as highly desirable as a sex-object among our females".

"Me; a sex object…what utter rubbish", Neville answered hotly.

"No insult or - _exaggeration for reasons of flatter_ \- is intended, I assure you", Elrond stated in a matter of fact tone. "I simply repeat known facts. If not for the law which forbids it and given half a-chance; all the Amazons in this room would mount you in turn. And the reason is obvious; you are after-all a gardener/botanist by trade…which means you have the body-odor of the earth and growing things. We elves try our best to be as one with nature. The cologne that male elves wear can only simulates your natural musk".

"What about Ron?" Neville asked.

"He smells so strongly of hospital disinfectant; it is turning my stomach." One of the females in the entourage said distastefully; as several of her companions made casual noises of agreement. This announcement made Neville smile and Ron chuckle softly.

"Well-well, I stink…always good to know. As a shower is desperately indicated, perhaps we should move things along. How may I serve Milady?" Ron asked carefully.

"From now on you will address all your questions and suggestions through me", Elrond said sternly. "The royalist faction in private conclave; meaning our extended family; has just recently voted to replaced Dame Ellen as primary contact with you humans…as the risk of harm to her being too great. The _fourteen_ have loudly denied culpability for the most recent attack; but no-one believes them anymore. The - _**three royals**_ \- have also expressed outrage over the two attacks on Milady's safety and have unanimously confirmed my appointment as ambassador to the magical Irish and continental Europe".

"Congratulations Milord Elrond on your new appointment". Ron said sincerely. "Can I assume that I was sacked; because of something I have done or failed to do…will I be held responsible for putting Milady at risk…twice?" Ron asked as all the color drained from his face.

"You have most definitely not been sacked", Elrond said. "The three royals have been briefed on how you were harmed safeguarding Milady Ellen for the second time and will properly honor you for your deeds when they see you at Court. It has just been decided that Milady should withdraws from the front lines of this conflict".

"My Great Aunt is (after-all) the official head of household for my entire extended family. She is also the supreme leader of the most powerful royalist political faction within the _**Realm**_. She is therefore far too high in the hierarchy of the elves; to risk murder over the translator's table bread issue".

"You clearly do not understand the desperate need I have to get bread on any table where it is needed", Ron said with so much restrained anger that his hands began to glow blue.

"His hands glow" one of the elves in the back said in shock, which drew the attention of all the others.

"Ronald get a-grip of your temper at once, before someone gets hurt", Dame Ellen said speaking-up for the first time. "We are deeply touched at your personal loyalty to us, but your defense of what is in the _**Realms**_ best interests, can be taken to extremes at times. It is as I suspected, your small contribution to the _Battle of the Flat _has damaged your magical core. So much elf magic released in a single burst must have altered the way you fundamentally interact with magic."

"You can say that again, his healers have been saying that something major happened to his magical power, which transformed him into having the strongest **c****or****e**; that those in the healing profession had ever encountered", Neville replied with a irritated snort. "Something during the battle did this to Ron and I'd like to know what?"

"By-the-way…old chum" Neville said pressing hard, "You keep saying that you didn't do all that much during the battle and Old Jon keeps saying the same thing, while refusing to go into specifics. That's left me a-tad frustrated on what the hell really-happened; which means I've been dying to ask you; how many spells did you get off during the battle. The healers have theorized; that you might have gotten in the way of some-kind of magical back-draft…from all the hexes the elves were throwing about".

Ron heard this and couldn't help but smile at how close that guess was to the truth, causing his temper to cool and his hands to stop glowing. He was soon calm enough to reply:

"Two"

"Two…what?" Neville asked

"Two cast spells total. That's all I got off before I blacked out", Ron said with total honesty.

"Then it's true…it was entirely elf magic; that did the impossible", Neville said surprised.

"Yes master Longbottom, the brief fight was won with extra-powerful…elf magic", Elrond said truthfully.

"If you were there…maybe you can tell me what struck down my best-mate?" Neville asked. "The healers and I, desperately want to know".

"We didn't see the translator take a hit with a human curse, if that's what you're asking", Dame Ellen conceded carefully. "So we have concluded that your healers must be correct in their theory that our servant was indirectly affected by the elf magic utilized in your former lounge. And now that the issue of the translator's injuries is settled for all time. Allow two of my escort to transport you to this - _**Burrow**_ \- where you may inform his family that he is now awake".

Whatever further argument Neville was going to make was cut-off by the expression on Ron's face which was a clear indicator to; '_drop-it',_ and without another word; two elves stepped on either side of Neville took him by the arm and glowed, out of existence.

"That was a-tad abrupt don't you think?", Ron asked in no mood for pleasantries.

"Actually master translator, our forbearance to this point has been notable", Elrond explained. "The preliminaries were signed five days ago, and the gate opened the moment Ambassador Davis finished putting his signature on the treaty. The humans as expected poured through the gate like a flood and for the first twenty-four hours the humans did little else but take measurements. We had fifty railway-wagon's waiting for loading. But during the first day not a single loaf of bread was delivered. The second day was in the same fashion as the first; with more measurements combined with stakes stuck in the ground".

"Dammit", Ron mumbled.

"Which brings us to day three; just forty-eight hours ago, for us here in Dublin…when at first light; human soldiers were marched in…at reinforced battalion strength. Thankfully these wizards were unarmed or our Amazons on the containment wall would have opened fire. Behind theses troops were numerous _flatbed trucks_ which roared and belched foul smoke into our clean-air, as they drove through the gate. Sixty came through…one after another in just a few hours and then these loud and disturbing machines pulled abreast of our railway-wagons where their cargoes were transferred by hand; utilizing the human soldiers".

"My bread and vegetables have been delivered, thank-god", Ron said greatly relieved.

"You lied to us translator", Elrond said sternly, "You told us that only two railway-wagons worth of bread awaited transfer…twenty two of our railway-wagons were loaded before sunset two days ago, with another twenty trucks still waiting to be unloaded".

"Are you complaining? When my head-of household has ruined her credit and mine by doing this?"

"We want to know - **how** \- you did this miracle. You did not learn of the peaceful demonstrations which took place in- _all of our major cities_ –until the very day of the attack on your flat. You were unconscious in hospital and therefore had no way to convey to the humans our desperate need for additional supplies. You could not have possibly known that the number of elf commoners demonstrating in support of purely respectful - _presentations of grievance_ \- to the _**three royals**_ over some irrelevant domestic issues…had increased by ten-fold during the days after the flat attack; reaching the point where our law-enforcers couldn't control or contain".

"The situation had gotten out of your control…", Ron began only to be interrupted

"…nearly out of control", Elrond countered. "Two days ago the- _**three royals**_ -were about to declare the end of their - _divine mandate from heaven,_ \- when reports reached the capital of the large deliveries in Vancouver. The humans even brought in artificial lighting and continued to rotate troops and trucks as fast as we could cycle elvan rolling stock.

"One hundred forty railway-wagon's and flatcars have been loaded and sent to the interior before we ran out of transports…with thirty trucks still waiting to be unloaded…as of just an hour ago".

"That was too ruddy-close for comfort", Ron said as a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders.

"Yes, we royalist agree, but what we want you to explain…is this", Elrond said while handing Ron a copy of a hand written note. "This came to us through a member of our faction, working-undercover as a clerk at the elvish freight yard at Vancouver. It is not your hand-writing but does bare the seal of - _**Weasley Wizarding chess ltd**_. Dame Ellen has identified the seal as yours saying that she created this seal for you after the death of Jonathan Veselkin".

Ron examined the seal carefully be declaring. "This is my seal alright, and its Tabitha's hand-writing, so I stand by what is written here. Looking down, he re-read the piece of parchment:

8*8

_To whom it may concern._

_On behalf of the noble household of Weasley/Greensmith I authorized the immediate purchase and instant delivery of eight hundred metric tons of grain products and fresh vegetables to the gate at Vancouver. All costs required to expedite the delivery as soon as possible is guaranteed by Weasley/Greensmith with an additional four hundred metric tons to be delivered within thirty days. Payment will be made upon delivery to the elvan rail-head within the human colony in Canada._

_Under my authority; as ambassador for the Woodland realm, _

_I remain; your obedient servant…Ronald B Weasley._

8*8

"When did your head-of household do this?" Elrond asked.

"As I was unconscious until a few hours ago; how can I answer…besides, what does that matter." Ron said. Whatever she did in my name; I fully authorize and support; especially on the bread issue. Tabitha has done our family great honor. We are of one mind on the bread issue with one thousand two-hundred metric tons elevating the situation for at least, a couple of weeks".

"Far more than just a fortnight, actually," An elf from the back of the entourage declared before being silenced. "But the issue now is not what you have done, but rather how do you gain from this transaction; as being the go-between for this and pledging your own credit was not negotiated".

"You could refuse to reimburse us for this service, leave us stuck with the second order…" Ron began.

"You misunderstand us",

"No…I don't think so", Ron retorted. "My head-of –household did not do this in my name for personal gain, but rather to prevent whole-scale starvation; I put it to you elves the question of whether or not compensation is in order for this service".

"You leave it to us?"

"…and Tabitha, naturally…she handles all money issues for our tiny family", Ron said. "Now if there is nothing else. I'd like to ring for my healer and let them know that I am awake and very hungry."

"When will you be able to travel?"

"To where, Milord?", Ron asked

"Our capital of course" Elrond replied.

"The treaty remains undelivered? …What foolishness is this? Had I died; what would you have done?" Ron snarled.

"You were never at risk for death."

"Milady, have your hired the elf instructor we spoke about?" Ron asked, trying to keep his anger in check.

"No, she is a most stubborn personage and a–tad insane", Dame Ellen replied. "We are convinced however; that for the right price, she'd teach elvish to a deaf and dumb…_**dwarf**_. Give us three full moons to talk her into it".

"Forgive me…but that timetable is unacceptable"; Ron replied formally. "Therefore I cannot with a clear conscious undertake the capital trip at this time. I must remain in contact with the North American's to ensure that the immediate needs of the hungry are met, while at the same time laying the foundation for the training of the next generation of translators. Give me until the end of summer or until Milady can arrange a proper elf instructor for Bonnie. It is my advice that the trip be delayed until at least; the human rail-lines can be extended through the gate to where they parallel the elvan rail-way lines. Once the rail yard is constructed and the free movement of theses commodities are assured…my first commission will be complete and I will be free to go to court with Tabitha and Bonnie".

"Grain flows through the gate, as we speak. Is not the crisis ended?" One of the entourage asked.

"One crisis as it ends often creates a larger catastrophe in its wake. The current solution to the bread problem cannot be maintained for long…unless the _**three royals**_ have an endless supply of gold", Ron replied with total candor; "Right now the humans are _selling without buying_. The great-elves need to find something the humans will crave and - _pay through the nose for_ \- to offset what the _**Realm**_ is currently buying. True trade between nations is never perfectly balanced but right now the humans are in a disastrously superior position. The bread issue solution has raised a trade equality crisis which must be addressed at once".

"Thus speaks a classic shopkeeper", one of the entourage snarled.

"True enough _gentles_ I am a tradesman with all the business knowledge that title implies. But I assure you that a decade of buying without selling will ruin the _**Realm**_ in the long term. The reason behind the continuing crop failures must be determined and rectified. Secondly a commodity that is inexpensive to make and _sold at a premium_ must be found to stem the flow of gold going out".

"You have a solution in mind already…don't you?" Elrond asked.

"Yes, Milord…but to do want I want violates your law, which can only be skirted in Canada. And secondly; the commodity I have in mind; can only be moved in bulk and that too can only happen through Canada.

"Why only through Vancouver?" Elrond asked.

"Let us assume that the Irish gate mandate to the new _seven_;" Ron explained. "Is backed-up by a decree issued by the - _**Three Royals**_; which describes in great detail, what - _can and cannot be sold_ \- within the boundaries of the - _foreign devil_ \- settlement soon to open in Ireland. Let-us further assume that this decree is almost a prefect copy of the restrictions of what could be bought and sold in the old Canadian settlement".

"Actually, no, the restricted list is far larger" and elf in the back declared.

"With wine and alcoholic-spirits right there at the top of that list?"

"Yes, that's correct, in the old settlement elf made wine and liquors could be lawfully sold by the glass in special establishments that you humans called Pub's or Bars", Elrond answered. "The new settlement does not have any Pub's…and the sale of alcohol in any form is strictly forbidden".

"Under the new treaty; however, the newly posted - _restriction list_ \- doesn't apply to the human colony…true?"

"Now instead of chess-sets…you want to open a Pub?" Elrond asked.

"No Milord, I want to arrange an exclusive export license for ten year period for a friend of mine…to export Elf made wine and alcoholic beverages in bulk to humans on the their side of the gate", Ron replied. "His name is Seamus Finnegan and he is an old dorm mate of Neville and me. After the second Voldemort uprising; he became a brew master and distiller of fine Irish whiskey. He tried to make - _**a go of it**_ \- by opening his own distillery in Ireland; but couldn't fight the century's old home-grown product. Failing at home he came to the old settlement in Canada and tried selling elf wine and alcohol in bulk, to humans outside the settlement…only to be caught, tried in an elf court; flogged and banished…for his trouble. The biggest criminal organizations in the old settlement made the bulk of their money by smuggling alcohol and wine to the human world. Seamus told me once that the elf probation against selling Alcohol to the human world is costing the realm a small fortune. The potential for royal revenue from that stuff is virtually unlimited"

"And you think selling wine and alcohol alone will balance trade?" Elrond asked.

"No Milord; but it's a start", Ron said. "I'm also suggesting that there-are certain plants unique to the - _**Woodland Realm**_ \- which Neville has suggested to me; would be highly desirable among wizard potion makers…such an export commodity could potentially bring a large and steady stream of income into your royal treasury. Finally; I strongly suggest that you look over very carefully those items that the - _**seven**_ \- are most stalwartly opposed to selling to us Humans. I'd wager that those items would be great income generators for the - _**Realm**_ \- if properly regulated and licensed".

"You speak too much like a salesman" Elrond said.

"If selling these items benefits the Woodland Realm and reduces its trade imbalance, where is the harm?" Ron explained. "My aim with the alcohol idea is to put human gold indirectly into the pocket of the workers who make Elf wine and whiskey".

"The translator is correct, you know. The restriction list doesn't apply to the colony", Dame Ellen interjected softly. "You yourself have been looking for something to sell to the Americans to offset the gold drain. Once again our servant has anticipated our need".

"Yes…quite right. How much will this idea of yours cost us?"

"That's a money matter, and we as males should not speak of such things. My Tabitha can discuss seed-money and contracts with Dame Ellen if you like".

"I will be traveling with Tabitha and her breeder to the capital; while you stay here at the embassy in case there is movement on behalf of the Irish", Dame Ellen. "I could work out the details during the trip?"

"Agreed"

"I'll also need a proper wardrobe for Bonnie, as well as three passports and three licenses as translators…all properly filled out; as I don't intend to waste this trip in down-time in language training to either of my students. I fully intend to take Miss Wright with me to the elvan court and view this whole escapade as a unique learning opportunity. However; everything depends on when I can leave hospital and that will be determined by my Irish healers", Ron said. "Luckily for all concerned Doctors can be influenced by political pressure".

"But you are resigned to going to the elf capital?"

"My reluctance has nothing to do with the trip itself; Milord", Ron said. "I advise against it for purely practical reasons; but if your internal politics require it…I will go. In fact I believe that traveling to your capital will be a grand-adventure, which I wouldn't miss for all the gold in Gringotts", Ron said.

8*8

As it turned out and in spite of a foul tasting potion that Dame Ellen insisted he drink over the strong protests of his human healers. Ron was compelled for the sake of interspecies relations to remain in hospital for an additional twenty four hours as human magical medicine…poked, prodded and jabbed as they tried to explain the unexplainable.

Meanwhile the diplomatic pressure by the _**Realm**_ on the magical government of Ireland and Dublin's magical Hospital was intense. They insisted on posting guards on Ron…who put-up with all the fuss and fully cooperated with his healers on the promise that he could go to his new digs as soon as humanly possible. It was the arrival of Tabitha at the hospital around midnight that same night, which greatly improved Ron's general outlook on events out of his control.

But there was no denying that five days without food had taken its toll, the elf potion had cleared his mind; but some of his muscles had forgotten how to work. Although only a temporary delay, the elves did not want to wait the four days required for the restorative potions to be fully effective. So as the sun began to rise on the second morning of Ron's return to consciousness. Elrond and his guards appeared in Ron's hospital-room with an 1885 period-correct wheel chair. Twenty minutes after a lot of fuss and bother; Ron and Tabitha were gone.

888888

The end

End transmission

888888…for now.


	17. Chapter 17

Be careful what you wish for 17

By Billybob

I am not even remotely a trained writer; to the point where I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish. You have been warned!

Category: AU = alternate universe PH = Post Hogwarts but with epilog deleted

In other words; it takes place **after** J. K. Rowland's – infamous February 8th 2014 bomb-shell.

Standardized disclaimer: This story is based in the world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my **few** readers. In other words…her characters…my plot…savvy?

888

**Authors final rant**; It's time to take a break from this. I'm not being driven away due to insulting reviews…but it is time to get out in the yard and away from my computer screen. With the temperature getting above fifty…my thoughts turn to outdoor activities and chores delayed by snow. So let's say this is going on hiatus…and leave it at that.

**Secondary point;** there have been countless HP fanfiction stories about Harry going dark, in some tales he even becomes an all-powerful death-eater. No-one goes nuts over these tales, and yet when I take Hermione down the dark path…look-out. In this story I try to give Emma Watson her wish, as expressed in an interview on 02-08-2014.

So in this story I have taken an (in cannon) attention seeking…socially challenged 'brilliant' witch to the extreme that unchallenged fame can take a girl. Without anyone to stand-up to her, she gets too dominated like she did '_more often than not'_…in the books, a reluctantly, weak-will Harry (in regards to girls); into become her boyfriend/fiancée …only to discover that - _the having_ \- is not as fun as - _the wanting_. I let Hermione fall into the darkness of her own making; due to her hyper inflated ego never being knocked down to normal levels by someone like Ron. Wherein her - _house of cards _\- is undone by an all but forgotten…discarded in the rubbish; former suitor from long ago…who upsets her mental superiority '_apple-cart_' by being better than her at something.

With Harry, I've tried to show what happens to a teenager hero, after 'Destiny' is done with him. No one ever thinks about that, what if - _happy ever after_…never happens to the hero of the movie or book.

As for Neville…well I have a soft spot for him which is subordinate only to my desire to build up Ron…oh shucks…did I say that out loud…darn; now my secret is out. I am a big fan of average men, like Ron and Neville.

If you have looked over my profile; you know that I have written several stories…wherein Hermione had to put out some effort to win Ron's heart (in his - _in cannon_ \- relationship; the average-guy Ron did all the work …and I do mean all). This change in the natural order of cannon has been my main-source of grief from my - _Granger is perfection_ \- readers. For I have (_personal option here_) always felt, that Ron's interest in Hermione was obvious as an Elephant in the lounge (living room) …whereas examples of Granger's romantic interest in Ron (in the books) were vague…pitifully few and far between. And maybe that's why actor Watson didn't see them?

**My third point; *oops**…Since I wrote chapter one; it has been pointed out to me that JKR only said that Ron and Hermione were a bad-fit. I'm told that JKR did not say (outright) that Hermione should have ended up with Harry (me bad…sorry) - - actor Watson declared that. With all this said; I still insist that JKR had seven books to make the two couples she shows in the epilogue (Happy ever after time) believable. And in that task alone…she failed. Except for the area of teenage romance…the rest of the books are perfectly fine.

*Jon Veselkin has his own story that I wrote long-ago…when I was a huge supporter of Ron ending up happily with Hermione…without the marriage-counseling that JKR heavily suggested on…(02-08-2014) with Ron being in the wrong naturally; as stated by actor Watson, for the horrible crime of **not** being her 'intellectual equal'. I wonder how often happily married spouses have the exact same 'I.Q.'.

*The only repeat criticism I have read concerning of this story is that Ron is not in character. To this charge I plead guilty … for I sincerely hoped that when I reached the age of twenty-four and was a married man with two kids; that I was a very different man than I was at seventeen and relatively naive. I show Ron being grown-up with a narrowly defined skill set that gives him the self-confidence required to do the impossible…because I am a huge Ronald Bilus; FAN !

Ron is the _average-man_ **hero** of this tale (get it?). His brush with super powers is brief and **not** permanent. In this story I tried to keep him humble and self-effacing and if it doesn't come off that way; the reason is my rotten writing skills...period. Ron over seven years develops even more into a nice, giving, kindhearted man during his absence from England (self-imposed exile) to the point of greatly surpassing the deeds of his former friends in the _golden **trio**_ which is now a **duo**.

**Finally**; this tale does not take place - '_in or around Hogwarts'_ \- with the main characters going through first-kiss…puberty. For that story line has been - '_Merlin Knows_' - beaten to death. So **sue-me**…if Ron's out of character (at twenty-four) from the kindhearted and comic relief; dimwitted sidekick _teenager_ as he was portrayed in the movies. For this; (dear nitpicker's of the world) is an _**alternate universe**_ story

Enough-said;

888888

Places everyone…Roll Film…Action!

888888

As the golden glow faded, Ron found himself in a relatively clean alleyway…in a loud and dirty Industrial Park located in the center of the warehouse district of old Dublin. As Ron came out of the alleyway, his ears were assaulted by the noises and smells of heavy stamping machinery repeating pounding in the rhythm of human industry. The dirty street that he and Tabitha entered had two stripped cars and one pick-up truck; all with their engines missing…they sat, burned-out and sitting on their rims, a sight that Ron found very depressing; as he was wheeled across the grubby lane toward a gap in-between a series of four-storied, factory buildings.

The gap between two of the giant factories that loomed to the sky like dirty brick canyons; was akin to a row of even white teeth, with one tooth missing in the very front. This gap was barricaded by an eight foot tall; rot-iron fence, which resembled any of the many gated communities found in the super-rich suburbs far from downtown Dublin. There was a clearly occupied guard shack in-between the car entrance and a pedestrian gate. Ron could see an elderly appearing, grossly-overweight, human security-guard and he instinctively knew that the guard was just an illusion. Tabitha was pushing his wheel chair at the time so he tilted his head and whispered over his shoulder:

"Do you have my jammer?"

"Yes, should I turn it on?" Tabitha answered.

"Yes-please, don't pull it out; just turn it on, long enough for us to see what's invisible", Ron requested softly.

Tabitha reached into her US Navy pea-coat and turned the knob on the jammer for just a minute. She then paused for a moment before looked around carefully. The first thing she saw was powerful defensive wards glowing see-through Blue…that surrounded the dead end street on all four sides. Before the jammer came-on; the six town houses before her had appeared to be run-down wrecks and mere skeletons of clearly abandoned buildings…with numerous broken windows, signs of fire damage and doors covered-over with raw plywood. There was even a burnt out delivery lorry in the center of the - _auto turn-around_ – circle…at the far end of the dead end block, which was like a statuesque symbol of the utter destruction that surrounded it..

The jammer once turned-on, however; cleared away this run-down illusion, and replaced it with a tree-lined lane and six pristine town houses…with an unrecognizable; full size statue of some historically significant Noble Elf, in the center of the auto _turn-around_…that now stood in front of multi-level car park, that hadn't been visible before; at the far end.

Tabitha had been here several times before so none of this came as a surprise to her. But the main thing that always jumped-out at the American witch; was the abrupt silence that descended on her the very instance that she stepped inside the compound proper…for the machinery and city noises evaporated…replaced instantly with birds making the usual noises of spring mating calls; even the air tasted fresher as if filtering-out the foul industrial smells. The only downside of this relaxing settling was the huge number of Amazons in battle armor milling about. As she always did, Tabitha once again gave a quick count of the soldiers she could see; knowing full well that other Amazons patrolled the three sides of the compound - _out of her sight_ \- which faced brick-covered factory walls…and decided in the end; that a reinforced infantry company was currently guarding the perimeter of the compound.

Feeling once again safe from attack, Tabitha turned the jammer off; just a few steps away from passing through the pedestrian gate. Once through, the elderly security-guard disappeared and was replaced by three heavily armed Amazons; who watched Tabitha pushing Ron's wheel chair pass the guard shack with deep suspicion. Also all traces of the illusions of a slum neighborhood and dirty squalor…then abruptly vanished once they were inside the rot-iron fence. The tiny community stuck in-between factories seemed to remind Tabitha of some of the better townhouse neighborhoods in - _**San Francisco**_; and it was that, oh-so familiar picture postcard quality; that Tabitha found so reassuring.

"From across the lane, the look of this place - _from the outside_ \- reminded me very strongly of the slum neighborhood where once the Black household was positioned…back in Grimmauld place London", Ron softly commented. "I'm glad that I never have to go there again; the place was down-right depressing. We would have had to find a new place to live…if this townhouse turned out to be a match to Grimmauld place. At first sight, I was worried…but I should have known you wouldn't have agreed to move us to a noisy and dirty slum-like neighborhood. Now I can clearly see that you picked a place that's rather pleasing to all my senses. You have done very well indeed Tabitha, how did I ever survive without you?"

"You didn't silly…not for every long anyway and I'll never forgive myself for leaving you when you were broken and in ruins", Tabitha replied tearing up a little.

"You were right to leave me back then…I had zero prospects. But fate has been kind to me recently and I'm openly grateful for all of destiny's generosity", Ron answered in a more upbeat tone. "I could honestly do-without all these Amazons underfoot; but as long as they aren't inside our new townhouse; I can find it in my heart to tolerate their guarding presence".

"Don't go swelling my head with praise, Ronnie", Tabitha replied affectionately. "Our new home is all but devoid of furniture, which to tell the truth; was more to elf tastes than mine. For the life of me…I don't know why they believe that stuff was even remotely comfortable. That sofa felt like it was made of stone. The house itself is spotlessly clean - _top to bottom_ \- due to your overly active house-elves and is primarily filled with moving boxes...with the kitchen cupboards stocked with only the bare essentials. Actually Neville and Ginny flat on the third floor is better off when it comes to furniture, thanks to what Ginny brought from her - _**Harpies'**_ \- flat", Tabitha admitted sadly.

"We have a life time to gather stuff", Ron replied affectionately. "Is your Aunt Piper still around, I haven't had a chance to ask for her blessing?"

"No dearest," Tabitha replied. "She helped me move in here and then took the first pork-key back to California to be with her husband; Leo Wyatt and their kids. Piper was literally - _straining at the bit_ \- to get back to my baby cousins and says that our new place is a lot more – _kid friendly_ \- than your old burnt-out old; bachelor-flat. It even has a modest sized, back-yard, perfect for kids to play-around and to tell the truth…I'm in total agreement with Piper about that. My aunt also thinks I should plant a garden in the back and Neville agrees. She and the entire Charmed-one's coven of witches, will be back a solid fortnight before our double wedding. I was also thinking of spending part of our honeymoon in San Francisco so that you can get to know my kinfolk"

"Sorry, I missed her visit", Ron said apologetically.

"Piper is my favorite Aunt; she's also the most down to earth witch of the three and was the one who strongly suggested that I go to the elf settlement to get away from an - _Incubus, stalker-demon_ who wanted to breed me. The Charmed-one's banished him a dozen times, but he kept popping back and Piper though that once in the - _**Woodland Realm**_ \- the Incubus wouldn't be able to track me… and she was right about that".

I remember you telling me about this, but after the settlement burnt-down and you went home to California; didn't the demon return?" Ron asked.

"Yeah he did",

"And…?"

"My aunts used my two year absence to write a spell to get rid of the jerk…"

"Jerk…what's that?" Ron asked unfamiliar with the term

"Total A-hole… dear; a extra-tiny limp-prick, a complete scum-bag…etc!"

"Another Americanism I didn't know", Ron mumbled softly before loudly changing the subject. "What's next?"

"Tweaky has transferred your spare bedroom work-shop to the shop under our townhouse and with Jon's guidance has set up a shop that's almost a prefect copy of Jon's first Chess-shop in Wales…the first human store-front to hold the contents of - _**Black-Knight Chess.**_ Most of the space has been arranged as a workshop and supplies storage…with a tiny display-room located in the very front, facing the statue. Jon insisted that his oil portrait be hung over your office desk back in the workshop area. Jon claims he doesn't want to be underfoot in our living area. He also strongly assured me that; with the two elves we are leaving behind, he'll be able to handle any owl-post orders for Chess sets".

"There won't be any, my love, I tried for three months, and got nothing from the entire wizarding UK", Rod said sadly.

"Humor him on this; please. Jon insists on standing guard over your shop and what harm can he do down there? He keeps reminding me of Dame Ellen and the catalogs she was going to circulate; but that was a while ago, with nothing to show for it so far. I suspect you're going to want a brief-chat with him and to look around down there, but try to make it quick. Tweaky will - _by now_ \- have us both packed for the trip, with your favorite 1889 apparel; laid-out on your office desk. Once you've changed and given Jon your final instructions; all we will need is Bonnie in the right clothing, which wasn't delivered before I came to see you this morning at the hospital. So while Tweaky helps you dress, I'll be hopefully doing the same thing for myself and our friend, Miss Wright".

888888

One hour later

888888

As the elf transportation-glow faded, Ron began to see the elf-made platform under his feet; carved out of the west-side of the boxed canyon walls of the western edge of the Croaghgorms mountains (aka: blue-stack) of country; Donegal, republic of Ireland. Looking directly east and across the chasm in the direction of British Ireland or the six counties of the ulster Scots; that Ron knew was not more than twenty odd kilometers away (approximately 12 miles) to the east.

A chill ran down his spine from the knowledge of how close he was to U.K. territory and Hermione's jurisdiction. It would be quite a feather in Granger's cap if he was caught on British soil. Although not charged with any crime, following the law never seemed to be one of the England's M.O.M. (Ministry of Magic) strong points. But thoughts of another meeting with the _**golden duo**_ quickly faded from Ron's mind as he looked at his surroundings.

He quickly noticed how his small little entourage had gathered closer to him protectively, as he had seen done with the frail looking Dame Ellen. He reluctantly sat in his magically enhanced wheel chair with Bonnie pushing and Tweaky close by; on Lady Weasley's (Tabitha's) left side. Ron didn't want to be sitting in any-kind of wheel chair; but while dressing for this trip, he had been forced to concede to the short-term feebleness of his body.

The other side of this boxed canyon was also visible to the naked eye and not more than one-hundred thirty eight meters away (151 yards). As Ron looked across the chasm at the vertical wall of jagged rock three kilometers tall (9800 feet) that faced him, Ron felt tiny…like an ant. At the far end of the chasm, about two kilometers opposite to the mouth of the canyon, which led out into Ireland proper…was a two hundred meter tall waterfall that fed into a respectable sized stream that poured a goodly amount of water down the ravine and into the - **Eany** \- River which was relatively close-by in distance. Near the bottom of the vertical rock face in this knife cut into a mountain's side; were the sharply angled grassy slopes of the bottom of the gorge, which only sure-footed shepherds, mountain sheep and goats could safely navigate.

The elf-made platform was about twenty square meters in diameter (65 feet) and prefect for apparateing, although it was too small for a port-key landing site. It sat on the canyon wall some one hundred meters above the bottom of the ravine. From this vantage point Ron could see the tiny box canyon in its entirety and he shook his head in sadness at the impractically of putting a gate here.

Looking out toward the mouth of this box canyon he could see a tiny village too small to appear on any map…of about twenty thatched buildings. Beyond that, was the single lane dirt-track that led to; Drumbarn road and then a wee-bit further to the west, the paved two lanes of route 262; which led south to the larger town/village of Frosses. No sign of a rail line could be seen just as the - _**fourteen**_ \- had planned.

Scattered between the platform and the village on the steep slopes of the gorge were small groups of sheep grazing on the spring grass. Glancing upstream from the platform toward the waterfall; Ron saw additional sheep intermingled with patches of pine trees. From what he could see, there was no footpath of any kind leading up to the platform; not even a goat trail.

Looking at the faces of his companions; Ron could all but hear their mental wheels turning…few of the elf troops that accompanied him that fateful day, had ever seen the elaborate rail-yard and the already established multiple warehousing which sat on the human side of the Vancouver gate. So Ron could easily imagine why those who had never been to Canada were focused on the task ahead and what lay beyond the Irish gate.

Only Dame Ellen, two of her entourage, Bonnie and Tabitha; spent any time looking over the box canyon in the mountains and thus had any concept of how difficult it would be to bring anything physically large and bulky to this platform without ruining forever this picturesque box canyon's natural beauty. Even apparateing to this small platform would have to be carefully regulated for safety reasons…which would make getting back and forth to work on time; during the restricted timeline the gate would actually be open to humans…very unlikely.

Even the gate itself was smaller than any Ron remembered. The one in Vancouver was at least thirty meters (98 and one-half feet) tall at its peak and the same distance wide; plenty of room for two rail lines abreast and a two lane paved track for trucks. The Irish gate was only - _**three by three meters**_ \- in diameter (approximately ten feet) and deliberately designed to limit the size of product that could be brought in. Ron growled under his breath at this stupidity and then felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. Looking up at his beloved Tabitha, Ron could see that all the shortcomings that he had seen in this - _gate disaster_ \- were reflected on the face of a fellow refugee from Canada.

"Have I told you recently how truly fortunate I am for even knowing you. How grateful I am for you coming back to me?" Ron asked adoringly.

"Not recently, and I feel horribly neglected". Tabitha joked.

"I'm not worthy of you"

"Of course you're not." Tabitha replied with a pretended sneer. "I got stuck with the rut of Molly's litter. Luckily for you, I know how to make-do on table scraps. Your only saving grace is your skill in the sack."

"My lady is too kind".

"No…not really, I saw your potential two years back…with your gentle kindness drawing me to you like a moth to a flame. You instinctively help others to succeed and flourish. Do you have any idea how rare that is?" Tabitha asked rhetorically. "Ginny said to me; when we talked, that she's convinced that Potter would have given-in to despair dozens of times over the years…without your quick-witted sense of humor and low-key support; keeping him on track. I know this to be true, for you did the same thing with my charm shop. Granger as smart as she claims to be; continually underestimated how critical that kind of unnoticed support can be… I've met and rejected more than my share of self-absorbed jerks and just like Ginny I was looking for something special to give my life meaning. Then fate put you in my path".

"I just like to help people…no big deal!" Ron admitted humbly.

"And you're damn good at it. Look at what you've done for the Elves!"

"Anyone would have done what I've done."

"There you are wrong", Dame Ellen said moving closer as her small entourage waited for the Irish gate to be open. "Destiny picked you to be in the right place at the right time at the reception. Fate selected you among countless thousands of witches and wizards to speak to our nephew Gladwin about the colony …which was just the kind-of '_outside-the-box'_ thinking, we needed. Many of you humans have not faith in fate, but we elves often search for a child of destiny, especially when we face destruction. You might not have been Destinies - '_chosen one'_ \- among humans... but not everyone is as blind as Granger".

"Potter was the hero of the Voldemort civil-war: Milady

Potter is just - **ONE** \- of history's Heroes", Dame Ellen said sternly. "Way back in the history of the elves, during the third age of - **Arda;** a great hero by the name of Frodo Baggins of - '_**Bagend**_' - did a great deed for the sake of all elves…allowing us to depart into the west while avoiding the - _**long defeat**_ \- that was foretold. But, we elves equally honor Frodo's sidekick…for we know without doubt; that without the understated support of; Samwise Gamgee, the ring of - **Sauron** \- would not have been destroyed".

"My great nephew Elrond will need your down-to-earth, undercover support, if we are to gain anything from the Irish gate disaster", Dame Ellen continued. "The sabotage is obvious to our eyes and yet…this access to the European common-market should not be wasted. Elrond intends to hold you to your estimate of five years before reopening your chess shop in Vancouver. Until then you'll stay with us in Dublin, giving advice behind the scenes which will hopefully salvage something from the mess that the - _**seven**_ \- has made of the Irish gate. We have full confidence in your abilities and so does Elrond. Somehow you will make both gates beneficial to the - _**Realm**_…while training both of your apprentices. Our task after this trip is to convince our crazy friend to teach Bonnie".

"My breeder agrees to stay in Dublin in exchange for the exclusive export license he asked for concerning alcohol".

"The only problem that we foresee in this; concerns master Finnegan's banishment", Dame Ellen said. "But I imagine that issue is rendered mute by the creation of the colony, where our banishment laws will not apply".

"Old banishments like the one for Seamus will be nullified…yes. But new ones for fresh crimes will still hold sway", Ron interjected softly.

"That was in one of your addendums…wasn't it?" Dame Ellen asked.

"Yes Milady, I always envisioned Jon's colony as being the trading center for both dimensions", Ron said proudly. "Buying and selling things that were forbidden in the old settlement, elvish medical services for example".

"Your idea, this time?" Dame Ellen asked with a smile.

"Yes Milady…Let the humans come to you-lot…for cures that we humans can't offer and then tax each treatment." Ron said…and after a moment or two of thought; Dame Ellen declared to one of her entourage.

"Make note of this…our family will cosign a loan for the alcohol venture in a three way silent partnership with Weasley/Greensmith. Finnegan will be joint CEO and the human public face of the venture with some great-cousin of ours (to be named later) acting as his co-CEO and elf business partner. Finnegan will gain up-to twenty percent of the stock over time as a reward, as his efforts merit it. With the silent partners splitting the rest of the stock…with all profits divided equally between us," Dame Ellen said directly to Tabitha.

"Agreed" Declared Tabitha…Ron's head of household and exchequer of the Weasley/Greensmith's treasury.

"The Medical services idea will require further thought and investigation. We will have to get back to you on this suggestion".

"Alright then", Tabitha said

"Lady Weasley may I ask; if you are excited about being the first humans to see to enter the Irish settlement?" Dame Ellen asked politely

"No Milady. Truth is…from the pamphlet I studied, the layout of this settlement reminds me strongly of a human theme park called **Disneyland. **For it has a single narrow-gage, steam-train railway station and streets mostly dedicated to foot traffic. The only obvious-thing missing, being the food vendors. I'm most looking forward to seeing your countryside and capital",

"I've never been to Disneyland; otherwise I'm of Tabitha's mind concerning this journey", Ron said softly smiling lovingly at his bride.

"Disneyworld is way-better", Bonnie interjected form where she and Tweaky stood as silent observers. "I visited it last year on vacation with my family".

"Visiting both theme parks sounds like a bucket-list item to me", Tabitha said optimistically. "Someone make a note of it."

"Yes Mistress", Tweaky said softly.

"Do you have all the humans luggage; Tweaky?" Dame Ellen asked politely.

"Yes Great lady" Tweaky replied modestly to the elf Dame.

"It's as I always have said; Tweaky is the finest House-elf in existence", Ron said proudly and hearing this praise the house-elf beamed with pure joy.

8*8

Just then the gate itself; began to glow brightly and when the glow faded; Ron and his human entourage saw the interior of the all but empty, Irish settlement for the first time. They could all see that beyond the presence of a dozen or so Amazons guards on the elf side of the gate… the trade center itself, was empty of any other occupants. It was exactly as Tabitha had predicted; with the sight of the numerous and clearly empty shop-fronts reminding both North Americans extra-strongly of Disneyland, an hour before it opened each day to the public.

Through this gate and into the theme-park style settlement that the Irish _**seven**_ had created; Ron and his tiny entourage stepped, thus beginning their journey to the Elf capital…much like Dorothy's adventurous journey down the yellow-brick road to the emerald city of Oz.

888888

End Transmission

And that's a wrap…for now

888888

And so this is where the first part of my story ends, with the Irish gate and beyond …a journey that rates its own story…don't you think?

Until I once again feel the urge to take up my quill. From this point onward I invite you (my few readers) to put your own imagination to work, and answer in a - _**thoughtful review**_ \- where you think this story should go? I greatly value the input of my readers and often incorporate your ideas into my narrative (multiple minds make for a better tale) …isn't that right Wayne?

*What will the other dimension countryside look like? *The train ride…and what can happen (good-or-Bad) during the trip

*What will the capital itself look like? Will the design favor Lothlorien and be up in the trees or look more like Rivendell? *What will be Ron, Tabatha and Bonnie's experiences at the elvan court?

*I originally envisioned a trip home (back to the human world) to include coming back through Vancouver and a fortnight visit to the Charmed-Ones. *Will there be trouble for Ronnie and Tabby in magical California…battles with demons perhaps?

8*8*

Come-on folks; my muse needs food for thought. Not all suggestions will be put in; but every proposal will be given serious consideration…helping me make this next part better than the first?

Until next time, thanks for reading…from Billybob


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